


Right Idea, Wrong Identity

by MsBrooklyn



Series: Assembly Line (or Why It's a Lot Harder than Steve Thought to Recruit New Members) [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Ultimateverse), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Earth 1610, Gen, Hints of Civil War, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, The Sinister Six - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4406975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBrooklyn/pseuds/MsBrooklyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt Murdock isn't surprised to find Peter Parker waiting for him on the rooftop of his apartment building a little over seven hours after the news breaks about SHIELD being infiltrated by HYDRA.</p><p>Still inspired by this prompt:<br/>https://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/2760.html?thread=5669064#cmt5669064</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Butcher's Mass, Mick Ballou and Grogan's are the creations of Lawrence Block, whose detective Matt Scudder was based in Hell's Kitchen for much of that wonderful series of novels. I borrow them here with love and in homage to the man whose books inspired me to dare to write.

Chapter 1

 

Matt Murdock isn't surprised to find Peter Parker waiting for him on the rooftop of his apartment building a little over seven hours after the news breaks about SHIELD being infiltrated by HYDRA. After all, it's not the first time he's come home after a night of fighting crime as Daredevil to find Spider-man waiting for him, though it doesn't happen often and usually only when Peter comes seeking advice. Unlike most fifteen year old boys, Peter doesn't want advice about girls or school. Peter comes to Matt for advice about fighting adversaries who can turn their bodies to sand or mother-and-daughter teams who combine their powers to cause explosions. The truth is, Matt often doesn't know what to say about some of the problems Peter brings to him. Mostly, he listens, the way Father Lantom listens to Matt talk about the things he does as Daredevil or the work he does in his legal practice. Occasionally, Matt talks to Father Lantom about Peter and together, they pray for him. Not by name, of course. Never by name. Secret identities are as sacred as what's discussed in the confessional.

"I had a feeling you might show up," Matt greets Peter. "Foggy and I started reviewing the leaked documents --"

"And they all call me 'the minor'. Fury made sure my identity wasn't on record, but now the whole world knows I'm not exactly Spider-man." He says the last word with extra sarcastic emphasis. "That's gonna suck. There wasn't much on you though, from what I could tell."

Matt knows and has already promised himself he will give an extra tithe to the Church because of it. "We should be celebrating then. I think I might have some hot chocolate mix --"

"Matt." There's a choked note of fear in Peter's voice. "It's not just the data that leaked. The Triskelion's been compromised. There are people locked up in there -- that I put there -- who hate me. Or maybe they're not in there because that Helicarrier thing crashed and the place is on fire and...ugh, I don't know and that's what's worrying me."

And there it is. The problem Peter came to talk about. "These people you say hate you... I'm assuming that would be Norman Osborn and that Octavius person, correct?"

"Yeah," Peter says softly. "Those two are the most dangerous because they know who I am, where I live, about my aunt a-and...Osborn knows about Mary Jane."

Not a lie but not the whole truth, either. "What does he know about Mary Jane?"

"Huh? No! God, no! It wasn't like that. H-he --" Peter goes silent and his heart is racing. 

Matt knows Steve has tried a few times to get the full story about Osborn out of Peter and he's been unsuccessful. Unlike Steve, Matt doesn't pry. If Peter wants to tell the story, he will and in his own time, the same way Matt goes to Confession when he has the need to talk. Still, Matt's clammed up in Confession and Father Lantom, bless him, has a trick that works every time. "It's all right, Peter. We don't have to talk about it."

"He tried to kill her."

Sweet Christ. Now he knows how Father Lantom feels when Matt shares details about being Daredevil. Matt stifles the 'what' and instead waits patiently for Peter to decide whether to go on or not.

"Matt, I-I don't want to talk about it, if that's okay."

"That's fine." It isn't but then again, Matt isn't sure he could handle hearing the full details anyway. Instead, he changes the subject. "Who else do we need to worry about?"

"Remember that guy who could turn himself into a sandstorm?"

Matt curses under his breath and he knows Peter can hear him because they've been practicing with Peter's enhanced senses. "Who else?"

"Electro, Kraven and I think also that Vulture guy I nabbed the other week. He was just wearing some kind of suit with wings, no powers or anything but SHIELD took him and Agent Carter wouldn't tell me why." Peter blows out a sigh. "Am I being paranoid if I think all these nutjobs escaped and decided to partner up to come after me?"

"I'd say you're being realistic," Matt tells him, "but then, I've been accused of being paranoid myself. Peter, did you try contacting Steve or talking to Tony or Clint to find out if these men actually did escape?"

"I asked JARVIS. He said the data was incomplete and his sources were down."

Matt curses again and doesn't bother doing it softly this time. 

"Also," Peter continues, "Steve's in DC with Natasha in the middle of that mess. You know Fury's had him based down there for the past month, so...uh...whatever. And Clint? Man, the guy's career SHIELD. He's got bigger issues than dealing with my stupid problems ...And, um, I guess I just felt more comfortable coming to you instead of Tony." Peter mumbles the last bit then adds, "Sorry to dump this on you, Matt and I don't expect you to go after any of these guys if they did get out. I mean, you're, uh, well, you're not delicate or anything but these guys are super dangerous and --"

"You may not expect it but if they come after you, you can count on me," Matt tells him firmly, even as he hears Foggy in his head, yelling at him for being stupid and taking unnecessary risks. "You're not dumping on me, either. You're seeking counsel and fortunately for you, that's why they call lawyers 'counselors.' We're trained to listen to problems and think of ways to solve them." He tilts his head to the side, inhales deeply and he can just about smell the incense coming from Sacred Heart. "Sometimes, I seek counsel, too."

"Really? From Steve?"

"From God." 

"Does it work?"

"One way or another, it always does." Matt reaches out and rests a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Is Clint still at the Tower?"

"I think so."

"That's our first stop, then."

"And our second?"

"Butcher's Mass at Sacred Heart." 

 

00000000000000000000000000

 

"You just missed him." Stark is two sheets to the wind, sitting at the bar in the Tower's common area and toasting SHIELD's downfall. "Wouldn't say where he was going, either."

Peter's shoulders slump because he really, truly does not want to discuss this with Tony. He likes Tony. How could he not? During the past six weeks, they've spent hours in Tony's lab, talking science, tinkering with Peter's web shooters and Tony's armor and having the kinds of discussions he's always dreamed of having with someone who could keep up with him. Of course, in these discussions, he's the one struggling to keep up with Tony. But talking science is one thing. Talking about Norman Osborn and the mess that is Peter's life is another. Because Tony? His gut reaction to that kind of situation is to armor up and start shooting stuff.

Tony cocks his head to the side at Peter's less than enthusiastic reaction. "Buck up, junior, this is a good thing. Do you have any idea what those guys were doing? Of course you do. You're a direct result of Fury's attempt to mass produce Capsicle." He takes a swig of his drink. "You're welcome, by the way. I hacked their data when you showed up on our doorstep and wiped your name from their files. Same goes for you, Murdock."

Matt shifts beside Peter, focusing the attention that Peter knows has been focused elsewhere back on Tony. "You did that?"

"Yup." Stark pops the 'p' at the end of the word. "I can't say there aren't paper files or people running around with the information in their heads, but at least it's not floating around in the public domain." He refills his glass and eyes Peter. "No thank you for your Uncle Tony? And not even a smile. You're a tough audience, kiddo."

"Tell him," Matt says, his voice soft and insistent.

"Uh-oh. I smell a problem statement coming on." Stark shoves his glass towards Peter. "Have some Dutch courage, kid."

Matt makes a disapproving noise.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Murdock. The kid has Cap's kind of metabolism which means if he gets any kind of buzz, it'll only be for a few minutes."

Peter shakes his head, nudging the glass back towards Tony.

"Really?" Tony asks incredulously. "A kid your age should be sneaking off with the whole bottle and his girlfriend--"

"A kid my age doesn't have dangerous people who want to kill him locked up in the Triskelion," Peter snaps. It comes out mean and he instantly regrets it. None of this is Tony's fault, except for the fact he's incapable of having a normal conversation. "Sorry."

Stark sits up, looking a lot more sober than he led them to believe. "Shit. Shit shit shit. Kid, oh shit, kid... JARVIS, please tell me the prisoners at the Triskelion are still locked up. Start with Magneto and work your way down."

"Magneto's whereabouts are unknown, sir, as are those of Norman Osborn, Otto Octavius, Flint Marko, Max Dillon and Adrian Toomes --"

"Who?" Peter asks.

"Mr. Toomes is a former SHIELD agent, Peter. He was calling himself the Vulture when you recently apprehended him," JARVIS explains.

Peter swallows hard. He's looking up at the ceiling, not trusting himself to look at either Tony or Matt. The latter is just foolish because he knows Matt can tell he's seconds away from having a full blown panic attack. "What about Kraven?"

"He is in critical condition at George Washington University Hospital with multiple gunshot wounds and electrical burns."

"Stay here," Tony orders Peter. "It's the safest place for you."

"My aunt and Mary Jane --"

"They can stay here, too."

"His aunt doesn't know he's Spider-man," Matt puts in, "and this might not be the best time to tell her."

Peter wishes Matt could see the grateful look on his face but maybe Matt can tell just from his breathing or something.

Stark scrubs a hand over his face. "This is why secret identities are a problem, boys." He raises his hand, silencing them before they contradict him. "Yes, I know all the pro arguments but this is one hell of a con. Look, Iron Man flying around in Forest Hills is going to attract too much attention, but I've got tech I can put in place to keep an eye on things. I can give you trackers for your aunt and your girlfriend. And for you, too, Parker. You're the real target. I want you in constant contact with JARVIS and..." He gets up and walks over to Peter, laying his hands on Peter's shoulders. "I want your permission to share all of this with Rhodey."

"War Machine?" Peter's mind is racing. Of course Tony knows War Machine. The guy is wearing Stark tech, for crying out loud. "Um..."

"You can trust him and he's in the best place to get intel with SHIELD gone and our people in the wind."

"Okay, yeah. Yes."

"And what do we say?" It's meant to be a joke but it rubs Peter the wrong way.

Still, Peter gives him what he wants. "Thank you, Uncle Tony."

"You're welcome, Peter," Tony says, releasing him. "You should tell your aunt, kid. It's only a matter of time before the public finds out. About both of you. You're not the only ones whose identities were in SHIELD's data and believe me, the day of reckoning is coming sooner than you think. I'd get ahead of this one if I were you --"

"You're not us," Matt cuts him off and the sharpness of his tone surprises Peter. "Peter is a minor who cannot support himself. Even if he goes through the process of emancipation who'd hire Spider-man if they know he's a walking target?"

"But he can be charged as an adult for the things he's done, which I remind you are illegal acts of vigilantism." Tony's voice is as sharp as Matt's. "I don't have to remind you that you're not a minor, Murdock, and you've caused plenty of serious bodily injuries along with doing a lot of things we both know aren't exactly legal in your pursuit of justice for all."

"Then arrest me, Tony." Matt holds out his hands as if Tony might cuff him then and there.

"Neither of us wants it to come to that, Matt," Tony says softly as he turns towards the elevator. "Believe me."

"Oh, I do. I believe you far too much," Matt says, just as softly as the elevator doors close behind Tony. "Come on, Peter. Let's go to church."

 

0000000000000000000000

 

Butcher's Mass is a tradition in Hell's Kitchen, dating back to the days when the Meatpacking District really did have places that sold meat instead of the couture designer boutiques that currently line the streets. Hell's Kitchen was mostly an Irish Catholic community back then and many of its sons were butchers and some, like Mick Ballou were a little more. Mick is semi-retired from running numbers, loan sharking and running crews to steal shipments of high priced items. Most days, the Butcher's Boy as he's known in the neighborhood, can be found at his bar, Grogan's Open House. Some mornings, Ballou comes to Mass wearing his father's bloodstained butcher's apron and Matt can tell that the blood on the apron is fresh. Most of the time, when that happens, some troublemaker from the Kitchen vanishes. For that reason, and maybe also because of Ballou's generous donations to the St. Agnes Orphanage, Matt leaves Ballou alone, though he still pays attention.

Ballou isn't here this morning when Peter sits beside Matt in a pew in Sacred Heart and tries to follow along with the service. He dutifully copies everything Matt does and sits quietly, listening to Father Lantom delivering Mass. Matt lets Lantom's words wash over him and he feels the knot of tension in his chest loosen slightly in anticipation of introducing his young companion to the kind priest.

"I see you've brought a friend," Lantom says by way of greeting.

"Peter, this is Father Lantom."

"Uh, hi. That was, um, a nice service."

Lantom is nothing, if not perceptive. "Your first?"

"What gave it away?" Peter asks.

"You didn't fidget, not even once," Lantom teases. "Latte for you and your friend, Matthew?"

"Please, Father." He takes Peter's arm, even though all of them know he doesn't need to be helped anywhere, especially in this very familiar place. The muscles beneath Peter's cheap, scratchy sweater are firm but it feels like Peter's found solace in the Church as well because they aren't nearly as tense as they were before the service. "Peter is like me."

"Like you?" Lantom pauses in the doorway to his office.

"I'm Spider-man," Peter tells him without hesitation. Matt explained about lattes, confession and Lantom's trustworthiness. He hadn't expected Peter to be so open with the priest and he feels a surge of pride in Peter's faith, both in him and in Lantom.

"Oh," Lantom says. "I see. It's to be that kind of latte this morning, then."

Peter shifts slightly, the muscles under Matt's hand tensing. "Is that okay? I mean, I'm not Catholic. Or, I guess, I kind of am. I was baptized but I never had Communion because my aunt and uncle didn't...uh..."

"It's fine," the priest tells him kindly. "All are welcome here to seek counsel, solace and sanctuary." Then he adds with a chuckle, "And I promise not to try to bring you back to the fold."

They follow him into his office, where Lantom fiddles with the machine and produces three lattes. Conversation stalls and they drink in companionable silence.

"Do you want me to wait outside?" Matt asks Peter, breaking the silence. "Or leave altogether?"

"No. Stay. Please." Peter sucks in a deep breath, holds it and then asks, "How do I do this? Am I supposed to say, 'Bless me, Father' and that I've sinned or something?"

"All you need to do is to speak from your heart," Lantom tells him. "We can worry about the formalities later."

And Peter does.

A little over an hour later, Matt has become privy to the details of Peter's life during the seven months he's been Spider-man. No fifteen year old should have to bear those kinds of burdens. No adult should, for that matter. Matt also becomes privy to something else that touches him deeply. Peter thinks of him as an older brother and Matt is quick to let the boy know that the fraternal feeling is mutual.

Lantom, however, is troubled and that's never a good thing. "Shall I assign you penance and have you perform an Act of Contrition with me leading you?"

"Uh...do I want that?" Peter asks Matt.

"Only if it would be meaningful to you."

"Oh." Peter thinks about it. "I'm not sure, Father."

"We can do that another time then," Lantom says, gently. He inhales and Matt knows he's about to give counsel. "Peter, you have a great weight on your shoulders. Your belief that with great power comes great responsibility is very much in line with the teachings of the Church but it's a sin of pride to believe that you need to carry that responsiblity by yourself." He pauses and lets Peter reach his own conclusions about who can help him. "I can't tell you whether or not to share the truth with your aunt. I remind you that lying is a sin and so is omission of the truth. I ask you consider the pain you cause her by not telling her and the pain you would cause if you did. She may be stronger than you think and you should never underestimate the powers of forgiveness and love. Finally, Peter, I remind you that your actions now cause her distress. You've been out all night, haven't you?"

Peter entire body slumps. "Yes."

"The Church is a sanctuary, Peter. We offer shelter and help to those who need it, including young men like yourself, seeking relief from the troubles in their lives. I'll call your aunt myself and tell her you've been here, seeking sanctuary and solace. May I also tell her that you're exploring a relationship with the Catholic Church?"

There's a beat and a rustle of fabric. The direction of Peter's breathing means he's looking at Matt. When he speaks, it's not a lie. "Yes, Father. I-I think I'd like that. Just... I'm not planning on entering the priesthood or anything."

Lantom bursts into laugher. "No, most boys your age are not." He gets to his feet. "You're a remarkable young man, Peter. I do hope you come back again. Please know that you're always welcome for latte, conversation or should you need sanctuary."

"How do you feel?" Matt asks as they step out into the sounds of Hell's Kitchen starting its day.

When he speaks, Peter sounds lighter in spirit than Matt's ever heard him. "Like I can deal with whatever's coming."

Matt smiles. "Amen."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dude! Do you know who you are?!" Peter exclaims.
> 
> Cold blue eyes stare at him, framed by dark eyebrows. When he speaks, it's like he hasn't used his voice in forever. "No. Do you?"
> 
> "You're Winter James Buchanan Bucky Barnes Soldier Guy!"

Chapter 2

 

The next three weeks pass quickly for Peter. 

During the first week, there's no word at all from Steve, Clint or Natasha so Peter begins avoiding the Tower and instead spends time with Matt. That week, Matt has him dress in civilian clothes, takes him to Fogwell's Gym and starts teaching him how to box. Matt also gives him a copy of the New Testament and teaches him the Rosary.

The next week, Clint returns and while he's not the happiest human being on the planet, he joins Peter and Matt for patrols, boxing lessons and one memorable trip to Sacred Heart for Butcher's Mass because none of them want to spend lots of time at the Tower. That's also the week Matt and Foggy have dinner at Peter's house and he introduces Matt to his Aunt May as his 'friend from Church' which Mary Jane finds hysterically funny. It's technically true, Peter reckons, so he won't have to add it to his list of things to confess to Father Lantom. 

It's Tuesday morning of the third week since SHIELD fell and there haven't been any sightings of the escapees from the Triskelion. Peter is settling into a false sense of security and his desk in Homeroom when his Spider-sense doesn't just tingle. It sends a surge of rip-roaring pain through his skull. Peter falls out of his seat with a cry and it's lucky he does because that's when the hail of bullets comes through the window.

"Get down!" Peter grabs Mary Jane and covers her with his body.

"You need to..." she tells him.

"I know."

"So go."

The only saving grace is that the boys' room on the third floor is directly outside room 312, his Homeroom, and Peter heaves a grateful breath when he sees that he's the only one in there. His new Spidey suit is bulkier than his old spandex ones, which means carrying a bigger backpack. At that moment, Peter could care less because the bulkier suit is also bullet resistant, with an armor plate dead center in the chest where the spider symbol is.

For his next big feat, he needs to sneak out of the school and confront the guy with the gun. Maybe the guy with the gun knows he's Peter Parker and attends school here or maybe he's just guessing. Either way, the entire universe doesn't need to know his secret identity. Besides, Peter knows four different ways to sneak to the roof from his current location, thanks to Clint and his obsession with sneaking around in vents and reading building plans.

"Eww. Oh yuck! Dead mouse. Dead bug. Ewwww. Gross!" Peter makes his way through the vent, just like Clint taught him. It was a lot easier to be quiet in the Tower's vent system when Clint was training him because those vents were actually clean. Peter has a feeling these vents haven't been cleaned since the building was built in 1932.

He pauses at the opening that will take him to the roof and his Spider-sense tingles again. Just a tingle. Nothing skull shattering. Peter closes his eyes, breathes and listens, just like Matt's been teaching him. He filters out the screaming of the students and the teachers, dismayed to learn they've stupidly left the safety of the building, and focuses upwards. There's the sound of boots crunching on gravel above him and he's not sure if he's smelling a gun or just imagining it. What do guns smell like anyway? Focus, Peter. Okay. So he focuses and what he hears is the guy on the roof crunching away from Peter's location towards the ledge. That means whoever it is, he's not expecting an attack. 

What he wants to do is jump up through the vent and scare the guy senseless but Natasha would beat the crap out of him if he does. Why? 'Because, malchik, he will scream and alert his friends,' he imagines Natasha saying, 'and you will lose the element of surprise.'

The sound of the vent being torn from its housing should be warning enough but it's too soft a sound to be heard over screaming students and teachers. Peter shoots two jets of webbing at the guy -- one over his mouth and one snatching away a really, really big gun -- before cocooning the moron and knocking him out. 

Just as he's about to check the guy's pockets and see if he can find a radio or a cell phone -- Clint's lesson -- he hears movement behind him. His Spider-sense didn't tingle but that doesn't stop Peter from rolling and popping back up, facing the person behind him, web shooters at the ready.

And then he freezes.

The guy behind him is the guy Steve's been looking for these past three weeks.

"Dude! Do you know who you are?!" Peter exclaims.

Cold blue eyes stare at him, framed by dark eyebrows. When he speaks, it's like he hasn't used his voice in forever. "No. Do you?"

"You're Winter James Buchanan Bucky Barnes Soldier Guy!" Peter starts to give him a friendly wave and ends up staring down the barrel of what's either a gun or a bazooka. He's not sure. Whatever it is, it's huge. And his Spider-sense still isn't tingling.

Soldier Guy looks positively homeless. He also smells homeless and Peter doesn't need Matt's sensory perception lessons to notice that. The guy is wearing a ripped up black sweater and black cargo pants with scuffed combat boots. One sleeve of the sweater is torn off, exposing the metal arm that Peter has read so much about. He's staring at Peter who's staring in rapt fascination at his metal arm. "Quentino."

"No, your name is --"

"Not me, punk. Him." Soldier Guy points with his gun towards the unconscious guy that Peter cold-cocked.

"Friend of yours?" Peter asks.

Those pale blue eyes tell him he's an idiot for even asking. "Silver Sable's got a contract to bring you in."

"Say what?" 

"Silver Sable," Soldier Guy says a little more forcefully. "Contract. You."

Peter hates when he can't figure out which player is on which team and figuring out Soldier Guy's loyalties would confuse Stephen Hawking. HYDRA? Not HYDRA? Brainwashed? Brain-damaged? He'd sat through the briefings, talked to Clint, eavesdropped on Steve and that Sam Wilson guy, read all the files -- both Avengers' own and leaked -- and he has not a clue. So he figures he'll just ask, "What the heck is a Silver Sable? And whose side are you on?"

That's when Peter gets a good look at the metal arm because Soldier Guy reaches out and grabs him with it, dragging Peter by the shoulder to the edge of the rooftop and giving him an eyeful of a platinum blonde lady with yet another very big gun. "That's a Silver Sable. She's a merc."

"Oh man, not a girl. Every girl I meet in this job can kick my ass," Peter moans. 

"No shit, punk. That's why I'm here." Soldier Guy raises his bazooka-looking gun and starts to aim it at Silver Sable.

Peter tackles him and the thing goes off like a cannon, shooting harmlessly upwards. "Are you nuts? This is a school! There are students and teachers and that really scary lady with the mustache from the cafeteria -- " And now his Spider-sense is tingling because Soldier Guy is pissed.

He reaches for Peter but Peter leaps over him, only to feel those powerful metal fingers close over his ankle like a bear trap and yank him down sharply, tossing him forcefully down on the roof. "Cut it out, Stevie, and lemme deal with this."

"Stevie? As in Rogers? I think you --"

"Shut up."

"--have me confused with Captain America and while that's flattering, I still can't let you shoot a bazooka on school grounds. They give you detention for that sort of thing." Distance. Not hand to hand. Not with this guy. Peter shoots a jet of webbing over the muzzle of the gun and starts to expand the spray so that it's stuck to Soldier Guy's hand but the guy drops it before he can finish. "They also send you to Principal Rankin's office and you think you're tough? You haven't met Principal -- hey!"

Metal fingers close around his neck. Peter swings his legs upwards, kicking Soldier Guy in the chest and giving him a face full of webbing at the same time.

They both land on their asses, gasping for air. Soldier guy rips the webbing off his face along with a lot of skin. 

Peter winces. "Gross! And also, ow!"

Which is of course when Silver Sable and her crew burst out of the stairs, guns drawn.

After that, it's gunfire from every direction. There's Silver Sable and two other guys and they're fanning out across the roof, but Peter still has time to notice that the chick is hot. Not that it matters because she's got guns -- yes, plural -- pointed at him and Soldier Guy. It turns out Soldier Guy has an arsenal hidden on his body and -- 

"Holy crap, is that a grenade!?" Peter catches flying debris with his webs when the grenade blows a hole in the roof. "Hoo boy, it's gonna be long time before we can use *that* gym again. Not that I mind giving up dodgeball or anything and hey -- leggo!"

Soldier Guy is not letting go. In fact, Soldier Guy has Peter slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, metal hand firmly on Peter's ass, as they jump the four stories off the roof.

"Well, now this is embarrassing," Peter complains as he's flung into an idling car. "And also a little scary. Do you realize you just jumped four stories --"

"Shut *up*, punk! And get the hell down!" Soldier Guy peels out just as gunfire explodes the back window. "When did you get so damn chatty? You're yammering like a dame."

"Speaking of dames, that Sable chick was smokin'. You think she's single?" 

The look Soldier Guy gives Peter makes him squirm and shut up for a fraction of a second.

But only a fraction because when Peter peeks out the window, he discovers that it's not Silver Sable chasing them now. It's the police. "Hey, Mugsy! Don't look now but we've got the coppers on our tail."

With a grunt Soldier Guy pulls out another grenade.

"Put that away!"

And to Peter's shock, he does. Programming, Peter remembers. The guy's brain is as scrambled as a McBreakfast sandwich. "Cool! My own Terminator."

"Shut. Up," Soldier Guy grates between clenched teeth.

"No shooting at cops," Peter orders. "No grenades in residential neighborhoods. Got me, Spanky?"

"Mission parameters accepted." This is a different voice, as cold and mechanical as Soldier Guy's arm. With that, Soldier Guy is all business, taking the car up to speeds that Peter is sure will get them killed if the way Soldier Guy is driving doesn't do it first. Amazingly, Soldier Guy gets them onto the Grand Central Parkway without hitting any traffic whatsoever. Hubcaps go flying and the suspension protests mightily as they hit potholes way harder than they should. Peter is hanging on for dear life when Soldier Guy flings a grenade out the window, creating a pileup that gets rid of the remaining police cars.

"Are you nuts?"

"This is not a residential neighborhood."

"Yeah, you're nuts. Where are you taking me?" It doesn't matter where he's being taken. There's a tracker in his Spidey suit that will tell the Avengers exactly where he is and when Steve gets wind that Peter's been taken by his old pal Winter Bucky, Steve'll come a running. Best of all, Peter might even be able to have the guy gift-wrapped for Steve when he arrives because Christmas is just around the corner and what do you get a defrosted super soldier anyway?

"Safe house," Soldier guy mutters, sounding more human. He reaches over and grabs at Peter's mask, yanking it off before Peter can stop him. Tossing the mask aside, he ruffles Peter's hair affectionately. "You hurt anywhere, Stevie? I didn't mean to smack you around so hard but you're such a stubborn little punk sometimes."

Okay. He can do this. He can be pre-serum Steve Rogers for a few hours, making sure nobody else gets hurt while the cavalry comes to take Winter Bucky into custody. "I'm okay, pal. How about you? Your face looks like raw meat where you ripped my web off."

"Functions operating in normal parameters. No serious injuries."

"Oohhhh-kay then." Scrambled. He buckles his seatbelt and tries to sneak his cell phone out of the hidden compartment in his Spidey suit so he can make sure Mary Jane is fine. Winter Bucky's hand clamps down hard over his. "Aw, c'mon. I wanna call my girlfriend."

"You finally got the balls to talk to a girl? I'm proud a' you, Stevie."

"Can I call her? Or-or at least text her?"

"No. Gimme the phone, punk."

Sighing, Peter lets him have it and of course, Winter Bucky tosses it out the window. Peter hopes Tony Stark will give him a new one, even if they're not exactly speaking. He settles back into his seat. "So what was all that crazy talk about a contract out on me?"

"HYDRA guy named Osborn wants you picked up."

"Osborn is HYDRA now?" Peter moans. "Oh man, pleasepleaseplease don't tell me he's teamed up with Doc Ock, the Sandman, Electro and that Vulture guy and they're all after me."

Winter Bucky slants him a look. "Got yourself in over yer head again, Stevie."

"Yeah, no sh --"

"Language! Dames don't go for guys who cuss like sailors."

Peter slumps in his seat. "I've just been scolded by Captain America's best friend for using bad language. Only me." He emits a weary sigh. "Still, I've gotta give you props, buddy, er, Bucky. I've been looking for those clowns for three weeks. You know where they are?"

"Don't worry, I've got your six."

And now he feels like the biggest creep in the world. Here's the scariest assassin ever and what's he doing? He's going out of his way to watch Peter's back. Meanwhile, Peter's planning to web the guy six ways to Sunday and turn him over to Steve. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Have I ever let you down?"

"Well, no --"

"Then relax."

Sure, he can relax and trust a brain damaged assassin, right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Spider-man is a kid?" Sam jumps out of his seat and gapes at Steve. "How come you didn't tell me Spider-man is a kid?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, this is the Ultimate-verse Spidey, where Norman Osborn threw Mary Jane off the Queensboro Bridge instead of Gwen being thrown from the George Washington Bridge. See Issues 22-27 for the full story.

Chapter 3

 

"It's not even worth going out there," Sam tells him. "He's long gone by now."

Logically, Steve knows that Sam is right. They've gone after him twelve different times and only encountered Bucky twice. Of the ten complete misses, they'd missed him by minutes three times, hours and days the rest. He's left a trail of torn apart HYDRA bases and dead HYDRA operatives wherever he's been, like a macabre calling card. Still, Steve is bothered by this latest sighting. "This doesn't fit his pattern. It's a high school, not a HYDRA facility."

"Maybe the facility's nearby and he was just holing up at the school," Sam suggests. "Got caught by a retrieval team."

Steve nods in agreement but his eyes are glued to the television where a reporter is pointing at the school's smoldering rooftop in the background behind her. "That makes sense."

"Anyway, the retrieval team got away, the school's a mess and the place is crawling with FBI, police and everybody else. We go down there, all we'd do is get in the way and draw attention to ourselves." Sam eyes him. "Earth to Steve."

"I heard you." He heaves an exhausted sigh, knowing that's just a signal to Sam to start in on how even super soldiers need to eat and sleep. "I just --"

"Feel like you should be doing more," Sam finishes because it's not like they haven't had that conversation before. "You should start with eating a real meal and getting a good night's sleep."

"Don't start, Sam." Steve waves him off and is about to drop down onto the sofa when there is a furious set of knocks at the door to his quarters.

"Mary Jane Watson urgently wishes to speak with you, Captain Rogers," JARVIS informs him.

Sam's eyebrow rises. "Mary Jane, huh? And urgently? You dirty dog --"

"Sam." Shooting his friend a quelling stare, Steve opens the door to a furious Mary Jane. She storms into his sitting area, jaw set and eyes flashing at him. "Uh, Mary? Is everything --?"

"Why are you just sitting here?" Mary demands, spinning on her heel to poke him in the chest.

Sam shakes his head. "She's cute and all but Steve, she's ain't legal."

Steve fights the urge to roll his eyes but notices Mary Jane doing it for both of them and far more effectively than he ever could. "She's Peter's girlfriend."

Sam nods and raises both hands in apology to Mary Jane. "Oh. Peter the intern."

"Intern?" Mary Jane echoes. "Peter is Spider-man!"

"Spider-man is a kid?" Sam jumps out of his seat and gapes at Steve. "How come you didn't tell me Spider-man is a kid?"

"I thought you kn -- owww!" Steve begins and is interrupted when Mary Jane gives him a sharp kick to the shin with a steel toed purple combat boot. It startles him more than it hurts but the steel toe of the boot doesn't exactly tickle either.

She folds her arms across her chest and raises her chin, eyes narrowed at him. "Do I have your attention now, Captain Scatterbrain?"

Sam snickers but falls silent when Steve shoots him a withering look and then gives his young visitor the attention she's demanding. "I'm sorry, MJ. What's wrong?"

Apparently, this is the wrong question to ask because she flings her hands up in the air. "What's wrong, he asks. What's wrong? That," Mary Jane snaps, pointing to his television, "is what's wrong. Where were you? I kept waiting for you to show up and then I find out that you're here, sitting on your ass and watching it on TV!"

"You waited for me to show up?" It takes restraint not to scold her for her unladylike language but he doesn't feel like being kicked again.

"Midtown High School? Ring any bells?"

Steve groans. He's been so focused on Bucky that the significance of the name of the high school and its location in Forest Hills completely slipped past him. Sam is right. He needs to recharge with sleep and a proper meal. "Is Peter all right?"

"That's Spidey's high school?" Sam asks.

Mary Jane pulls a small video recorder from her school bag. Like her boots, it's purple and it's also top of the line Stark tech, a gift to Mary from Tony when she mentioned that she was studying video-journalism at school. She flips it open and shoves it under Steve's nose. "You tell me if he's all right."

Steve takes the device and presses the 'play' button. The image shakes as the camera pans to the roof while gunshots ring out. There's a flash of red and blue -- Peter leaping upwards and being jerked down mid-trajectory -- and then an explosion that Steve catalogs as 'grenade' in the back of his mind. A moment later, he sees Bucky jump from the roof with Peter slung over his shoulder. Bucky races across the parking lot to a car, throws Peter in and takes off. The HYDRA retrieval team shows up a moment later, jumps into a waiting van and follows.

"Well?" Mary Jane demands. "Does he look all right to you?"

"JARVIS, can you give me Peter's location and put the feed from your link with him on my screen?"

"I cannot, Captain Rogers. His tracker and link are not operational. They went off-line at 8:22 am."

"That was after Homeroom and while he was still on the roof," Mary Jane helpfully informs Steve as he passes the device to Sam. "I need you to tell me this guy with the arm isn't going to hurt Peter."

Sam shoots Steve a look. Steve glares back and then says, "I don't think he will."

"He's not firing on all thrusters," Sam counters.

"He's confused," Steve says firmly. 

Now it's Sam's turn to roll his eyes as he bends slightly so that he's eye level with Mary Jane and using his calm group therapy voice. "We haven't been formally introduced by the guy with questionable manners over there. My name is Sam Wilson. I'm --"

"The guy with the wings. Not the bad one, though."

"There's a bad one?" Sam asks, thrown.

Mary Jane shakes her head, rummages in her school bag for her cell phone, clicks on something and shoves it at Sam. "He called himself the Vulture. What do you call yourself again? Fledgling?"

"Falcon," Sam murmurs. He turns the phone so that Steve can see a news photo of Peter, straddling the Vulture's back, clearly hanging on for dear life. "Your boy took care of him?"

"Oh my god, you people are clueless! You have the most sophisticated technology ever and you're still completely clueless!" she explodes, flinging her hands in the air again. "He's loose! They're all loose!"

"All?" Steve echoes. He feels like he's in the middle of a conversation in a language he doesn't understand. "What do you --?

"JARVIS clue them in."

"The Vulture is the code name of Adrian Toomes, a former SHIELD agent now known to be associated with HYDRA," JARVIS explains, switching out the live news feed on Steve's television for footage of Toomes' fight with Peter. "He was being held at the Triskelion but escaped along with the other prisoners being held there."

"They kept prisoners at the Triskelion? Sam asks. 

"Fury told me it was a temporary holding facility, that the others were elsewhere," Steve says slowly. "I never thought... JARVIS, what other prisoners are loose?"

"Erik Lensherr, also known as Magneto, Norman Osborn, Dr. Otto Octavius, Flint Marko and Maxwell Dillon," JARVIS informs them as their images flash on the screen. "The latter four as well as Mr. Toomes were all placed in custody by Peter. The last recorded therapy sessions with Mr. Osborn include notes from the medical staff that indicate an unhealthy obsession with Peter."

"I'll say," Mary Jane mutters and then she rounds on Steve again. "He threw me off the Queensboro Bridge to get Peter to cooperate with him last time."

"He what?!" Steve and Sam say together.

"Threw me off the b-bridge." Her voice shakes and she stares down at her purple combat boots, steadying herself and then looking back at Steve. "Peter's in trouble, Steve. Is the Arm Guy working for Osborn? Is he going to kill Peter?"

Steve gets down on his knees and pulls Mary Jane into a hug, which gets an approving nod from Sam. He knows what Sam's thinking and what Sam would tell him to do next. Taking a deep breath, Steve says, "Arm Guy is my best friend, Bucky Barnes --"

"I know who he is," Mary says pulling away from him. "Peter does, too. When he found out you were looking for him, he did a lot of research to see if he could help even though he knew you wouldn't let him. He was going to give you a set of web-shooters so that you could catch Bucky without hurting him."

Steve blinks as he rises to his feet. The web-shooters are a much better solution than the tranquilizer guns they've been carrying around. Peter keeps making the formula stronger and using Steve as a test dummy to see how long it takes him to free himself. The last time took almost the full hour. Unlike a tranquilizer dart, the webbing can cover distances and be used to form a net or a cocoon. "That was smart thinking --"

"Of course it was," Mary Jane says proudly. "My boyfriend is a genius. Anyway, I can get the web-shooters from his house for you because you're going to need them, aren't you?"

"Thanks, MJ. For what it's worth, I don't think Bucky would hurt Peter --" 

"So why did he kidnap him?" she demands, hands on hip.

Sam answers before Steve can. "To protect him." He pauses dramatically. "Think about it, Steve. Toomes is in HYDRA and he gets by pinched Spidey, then tossed into the clink where he's surrounded by all these guys who hate Spidey --"

"Not just hate. Two of them know how Peter got his abilities," Steve interrupts. He's following most of Sam's reasoning now. "Osborn was working for Fury, trying to create a modern version of the super soldier serum called Oz."

"You're telling me that the kid's a baby super soldier with spider powers." Sam starts laughing. "That makes this even more ironic."

"What's ironic?" Steve asks, trying not to sound irritated and failing.

"Okay, let's say for a second that Toomes recruits the other clowns for HYDRA, especially those two who know how to make super soldiers. They want Spider-kid, so they send in a team to grab him. Him, Steve. Not Bucky. Maybe Bucky finds out about it from all those HYDRA bases he's torn apart in the last couple of weeks. What do you think he sees in those files about the kid?"

Steve isn't following and he exchanges confused looks with Mary Jane. "Something that HYDRA wants and shouldn't have, so he tries to stop the snatch --"

"Man, you are blind!" It's Sam's turn to throw up his hands in frustration. "JARVIS, can you do a side-by-side of Steve's 'before' picture and Peter?"

JARVIS displays images of pre-serum Steve and Peter up on Steve's television. 

"Now I know the boy is more well-fed than you ever were, but he's still a scrawny little beanpole, even if he can lift a car with both hands," Sam goes on, "but just for a moment, pretend you're the one whose brains have been messed with for the past seventy years --"

"Oh my God," Mary Jane exclaims.

"He thinks he's me?" Steve asks weakly.

"Pre-serum you," Sam corrects him. "With super powers maybe or maybe not. Who knows? Doesn't matter. Bucky's confused brain is telling him little Stevie needs protection from five super-powered maniacs and HYDRA, no way Bucky's leaving his best friend twisting in the wind. He's gonna have Stevie's six, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees, numbed by the revelation. "Right to the end of the line."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is silent, those cold blue eyes boring into Peter's as he studies him. In the blink of an eye, he's got Peter in a headlock and --- holy crap, he's laughing. "Attaboy, Stevie. I'm gonna make a man out of you yet."

Chapter 4

 

Peter opens his eyes and realizes four things; his jaw hurts, he doesn't remember falling asleep, his hands are tied behind his back and he's blindfolded. This is what he gets for trusting a crazy assassin. Worry gives way to being ticked off and then goes back to worry again when he realizes that it's not rope around his wrists but a sturdy pair of handcuffs. 

Okay, he tells himself. No need to panic, he can deal with this. He's broken out of handcuffs before, both in real life and in training with Natasha. Same with being blindfolded. But he's got an added advantage since the last time he's been blindfolded, which is that Matt's been teaching him to use his other four senses. Peter focuses on his breathing and then listens. There's traffic outside, but it's sporadic which he's learned means that he's near a tertiary street. A metallic rumble of a passing train in the distance says there's an elevated subway line in the vicinity. He hears construction sounds and guesses their location is probably Long Island City based on all that he's heard so far. 

External surroundings taken care of, Peter focuses on what's around him. There are no sounds of movement and he can't hear heartbeats like Matt can but he can hear Bucky's breathing, calm and steady to his ten o'clock. He concludes that Bucky is watching him and probably knows Peter is awake.

Ignoring that fact for now, Peter uses his sense of smell so he can figure out what he's going to be escaping from. It smells like a dirty basement, musty and moldy, with mouse droppings and maybe human pee. That gives weight to his hypothesis that he's in Long Island City because it's full of warehouses that are being converted to offices and overpriced lofts.

Finally, Peter focuses on touch. The chair is made of wood, the handcuffs are metal and he's terrible with gleaning information from air currents. Still, what he can tell is that his gloves are gone and so are his web shooters. 

Matt takes in all this information in less than a second and he swears that if Peter keeps practicing it will become second nature. Right now, Peter feels like it's taken him an hour to gather the information and come up with a half-assed plan, the first phase of which is distraction. Bucky's watching him, so he needs to throw the guy off and do something unexpected, like reciting the Rosary. Bingo. Bucky's breathing speeds up. Peter snaps the handcuffs, dives to his four o'clock, rolls and launches himself upwards where he estimates the standard warehouse twelve foot ceiling to be. He pulls the blindfold off and throws it at Bucky who hasn't made a move to stop him.

"One minute and forty-seven seconds," Bucky says, looking up at him. "Not good enough."

"Th-that was a test?" 

"And you failed. Get down," Bucky orders, pointing to the spot in front of him.

Peter hesitates as he takes in their surroundings. The walls are covered with documents and photos. A shiny new laptop sits on a workbench with a pile of flash drives next to it. His mask, gloves and web shooters are neatly stacked beside the laptop.

Bucky barks an order at him in what Peter thinks might be Russian.

"You are so weird," Peter tells him, dropping down into a defensive crouch in front of the assassin. He's not sure whether to trust the guy or not, but since Peter's Spidey-sense isn't tingling, he figures he can roll with it. "Has anyone ever told you that you need a safe word if you're going to get into bondage?"

"Attention!"

"No, we should pick something a little more --"

"Asset, attention!" Bucky barks.

"Also, I'm underage," Peter goes on as he wonders just what the frigging heck is going on. "Handcuffing me makes you a dirty old man -- Hey!"

Quick as a striking cobra, Bucky's metal hand grabs Peter by the back of his neck, hauling him upright. Bucky releases him, curls his lip and then starts manhandling him into various poses. "Attention. Parade rest. At ease."

"Cut that out!" He tries shoving Bucky away and gets a rough shove in return.

"Attention!"

"Seriously?" 

"Make me say it again, Asset." 

Peter stands at attention, straightening further when Bucky glares at him.

"What you did well," Bucky says, raising his flesh and bone hand and ticking off his points on his fingers. "Taking the battle to your turf. Higher ground is always a tactical advantage against a superior force." Another finger goes up. "You clocked my location and reacted defensively until you could ascertain the threat." A third finger. "Diversionary tactic. Not the best choice but it was still a smart move."

"Um --"

"What you didn't do well. You. Took. Too. Damn. Long." He gets into Peter's personal space. "You had the advantage and you didn't engage. You're scared of me --"

"Because you're a lunatic!" Peter explodes. "You knocked me out to play hostage in some disgusting warehouse in Long Island City --"

"What makes you think it's Long Island City, punk?"

"Huh?"

"We could be anywhere."

"Anywhere doesn't have construction, elevated subways and is on a back street."

Bucky is silent, those cold blue eyes boring into Peter's as he studies him. In the blink of an eye, he's got Peter in a headlock and --- holy crap, he's laughing. "Attaboy, Stevie. I'm gonna make a man out of you yet."

What a whacko! Peter knows how to get out of headlocks, thanks to Steve. As he flips himself forward and throws Bucky onto his ass, he realizes that Bucky is probably the reason *why* Steve knows how to get out of them. Freed, Peter tucks, rolls and bounces to his feet, bringing his fists up just like Matt's been teaching him.

"Oh, that's real nice, Stevie," Bucky approves, rolling onto his side and propping himself up onto one elbow. "You wanna go a round with me?"

"Yeah, how about a big no to that bright idea?" 

Bucky leaps to his feet and brings his fists up, the metal one gleaming dangerously. "Come on, punk. Take a swing."

"No -- hey!" Spider-sense gets him out of the way just in time. He keeps dodging. "You're nuts! Hey! Cut that out! Dude, I really don't want to -- yikes!" Finally, Peter flips himself upwards and onto Bucky's back, trying for a headlock of his own. "Come on, I don't want to hurt you, but you're --"

"Can't hurt me if you don't take a shot," Bucky snarls, rolling onto the hard concrete floor and using his weight to knock the breath out Peter. He presses his advantage by wrapping his metal hand around Peter's throat and positioning his knee dangerously close to Peter's family jewels. "You're at my mercy, boy. Know how much pressure this hand can exert?"

"Actually, yeah. The tech specs on this baby were really detailed," Peter says more calmly than he feels as he reaches up and wraps his fingers around the wrist joint. "Did you know you have a weak spot where the radius would be on a human wrist? It's a design flaw that nobody's been able to correct and isn't really a problem unless you're dealing with somebody who has the proportional strength of a spider." He presses with his thumb and Bucky's fingers loosen. "Open sesame, Buckinator."

Bucky rolls off of Peter, looking down at his metal appendage and flexing the fingers. "You're a smart kid, Stevie," he says, finally. "Too smart. Can't let you end up in HYDRA's hands."

Not for the first time and probably not for the last, Peter wonders how Bucky can simultaneously scare the crap out of him, make him feel sorry for the guy and want to give the guy a big hug. "Aw, Bucky, you're not gonna let that happen. You've got my, uh..."

"Six," Bucky finishes. "To the end of the line, pal, and never forget it." 

 

0000000000000000

 

Mary Jane Watson wants advice. Sure, she trusts Steve. Who wouldn't? The guy is apple pie, truth and justice all in one adorably earnest package but the thing is, Mary Jane is worried that maybe his judgement is a little off when it comes to his friend with the shiny arm. She blames that on his friend with the wings. Wing guy made it very clear that he thought Bucky Barnes wasn't playing with a full deck.

When Peter needs advice, he goes to Matt Murdock and that's what Mary Jane does when she leaves the Tower. She's never been to Matt's office but it's easy to find once she looks up the address. It's on the West side and the Tower is on the East, so she cuts up 42nd Street and fights her way through tourists and people dressed like Elmo and other cartoon characters. The further West she goes, the less tourist-friendly the area looks. Matt's office is in a grimy four story building, though the plaque that announces 'Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law' gleams like a beacon.

"Can I help you?" The pretty woman at the front desk smiles politely at Mary Jane as she looks around at the barren office that smells like fresh paint.

Mary smiles back."Is Matt in?"

"Mary Jane?" Matt emerges from an office to the left. It's the first time she's seen him in anything but casual clothes and he looks every bit like a lawyer in his suit and tie. Mary Jane finds that reassuring. "Karen, this is Mary Jane. She's a --"

"Friend from church," Mary finishes for him. She smiles brightly even though she knows he can't see it. Maybe he can hear it. "I was in the neighborhood --"

"And I promised we could talk about a career in law."

"If I'm not intruding."

"Absolutely not." He stands in the doorway of his office and gently closes the door when she steps inside. "I've been trying to call Peter all day. Please tell me he's okay." 

The words and the look of concern on Matt's face are exactly what Mary Jane needed and didn't get from Steve. Apparently, his enhanced senses -- yes, she knows about that -- pick this up and the next thing she knows, he's got her in a hug.

"Tell me everything," Matt says, releasing her.

She does and when she's finished, she waits for his opinion.

He leans back against his desk, head tilted slightly to the side. "For what it's worth, I think you're right about Steve's judgement."

"But?" Mary Jane prompts.

Matt's mouth curves into a smile. "I'm not blowing smoke when I tell you that you'd make a fine lawyer, Mary Jane. You remind me of Foggy and that's a very big compliment, trust me."

"That's why I'm here. Because Peter trusts you." And so does she, not only by default but because she can tell Matt Murdock is one of the good guys, with or without the mask.

"I have no doubt Steve is going to do the best he can. He knows how to deal with HYDRA, whereas my expertise is more..."

"Mobsters and purse snatchers?" Mary Jane suggests.

"Mostly." The smile fades and his expression becomes serious. "I'm also not the best person to turn all five boroughs upside down. That being said, I can play nice with others and I happen to know an unemployed ex-SHIELD agent who can partner with me to do what I can't."

Mary Jane considers this for a moment and hones in on what he just implied. "You're not going to work with Steve and Sam?"

"Steve wouldn't let me if I offered. Clint and I can run our investigation parallel to him and reconnect when we're ready."

"You know," Mary Jane says slowly, "I came to you for advice, not to drag you into this. At least, I don't think I did --"

"I'm not being dragged. I'm going willingly." Matt stands up straight, head turning so that he's facing Mary Jane even though she knows he can't see her. When he speaks, there's a hint of thunder in his voice. "I like Peter. Very much. And I'm not going to leave his safety in Steve's hands or God's hands when I can do something about it."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"If there is, I'll let you know." He rubs his chin, where there's a fading bruise. "His aunt must be panicking, trying to reach him." Holding up a hand, he picks up his cell phone and presses a button. "Mrs. Parker, it's Matt Murdock. Yes. Peter's friend from church. Ma'am, I hate to ask this but Peter is part of our Big Brothers program and...yes, ma'am. Would you mind terribly if he stayed with me for a few days? No, it's not an imposition at all. He's very shaken after this morning and he's still dealing with the trauma of losing his uncle but he feels like it would be a burden on you -- yes, I know it's not, but that's how he feels and we should respect that. I'm sure you'd rather he spoke to a therapist instead of a priest -- oh. I didn't realize you were raised in the faith. Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." He lowers the phone and hangs his head. "She's a lovely woman and I feel horrible lying to her."

"That's because you," Mary Jane tells him, speaking from her heart, "are a good man. Maybe the best I know besides Peter."

Matt doesn't look up. "You don't know me."

"Think again, buster."

That earns her a smile. "You really don't."

"Maybe," Mary Jane admits with a shrug, "but Peter does, which means I love you too, tiger. Now stop beating yourself up for telling a fib and go be a devil or something."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's like we've known each other for years," Peter says sarcastically, pressing a hand to his chest and pretending to be overcome with emotion.
> 
> The sarcasm is, unfortunately lost on Bucky. "We've known each other since we were little kids, Stevie."

Chapter 5

 

 

Brock Rumlow is a new man and his face shows it. Three weeks ago, his face was a burned ruin along with the rest of his body. Today, he's been healed into something new, thanks to his new allies and true intellectual descendants of the Red Skull, Norman Osborn and Otto Octavius. Rumlow has Toomes to thank for this development. Toomes sacrificed his freedom to be placed with these men in the bowels of the Triskelion to recruit them and their bastardized gets -- Marko and Dillon. As a result he has four super soldier assets -- Toomes is not enhanced, at least not yet -- in his possession and if all goes according to plan, he'll have six. If his recovery teams don't keep screwing up, that is.

Osborn isn't happy and Rumlow's been instructed to keep Osborn happy so that he successfully produces Oz for HYDRA's use. To continue the work that's been done so far, Osborn says he needs the boy and that is the crux of the problem.

"Where is my boy?" Osborn greets him testily.

Rumlow's fists still ache from the beating he gave Silver Sable when she told him about her colossal failure this morning. He's not about to admit to Osborn that the kid's been taken by HYDRA's other problem child. "The boy's a slippery little rascal --"

"Take his aunt or the girlfriend and he'll come to you," Osborn instructs. His eyes narrow at Rumlow as he asks, "Or must I do this myself? Peter loves me. He'll come to me, wherever I am."

It takes restraint for Rumlow not to roll his eyes at this load of crap. The kid hates Osborn and will probably kill him if the aunt or girlfriend are in danger. He nearly killed Osborn just a couple of months back for trying to off the girlfriend. Then again, Rumlow's starting to run dangerously low on recovery teams that are even remotely capable of taking down the Winter Soldier. "That's not a bad idea, Norman. Do you think you can get the others to follow you?"

Osborn snorts at him. "I ran a multi-billion dollar company and you ask if I can get Octavius and three common thugs to follow me?"

Rumlow raises his hands in surrender even as he works out how to convince Osborn to get both the kid and the Winter Soldier for him. Winter-boy's shrugged off EMPs but Rumlow can't wait to see him try to shrug off a guy made out of electricity and a living sandstorm.

"Norman," Rumlow says, his new face contorting into something resembling a smile, "I have every faith in you."

 

0000000000000000000000000

 

"You want me to work against Cap?" Clint taps his hearing aid because it has to be malfunctioning. He should have known that Murdock wasn't inviting him over to his place for a beer to shoot the shit about how he was doing, now that he was out of a job.

Matt slips off those ridiculous red-tinted sunglasses that he wears and rubs the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I said, Barton. I'm asking you to work parallel. It's different."

"Lawyer logic."

"Just logic," he says slowly. "Steve's priority is Bucky Barnes. Ours is Peter Parker."

"Bucky has Peter," Clint points out, "and you said yourself that he's protecting the kid from HYDRA."

"We assume that's what he's doing, just like we assume that four of Peter's genetically enhanced enemies, including the one that's obsessed with him, are now working with HYDRA," Matt goes on. "Assuming that's correct and knowing what they've done to Barnes for the past seven decades, what do you suppose they'd do to Peter if they get their hands on him?" He pauses and lifts his unseeing gaze towards Clint. "Now assume we're wrong and Bucky's intentions aren't so honorable because he's unstable. Assume further that he might be willing to trade a fresh, young super soldier with additional abilities for his own freedom. Would Steve acknowledge that possibility or would he be too biased to disbelieve it?"

Clint groans because...dammit, logic. He tries to dissuade Matt anyway. "It'd be easier to partner up with Steve."

"Would he partner with you on this? Or does he see it as his own personal burden?"

"You," Clint says firmly, "are a cynical sonofabitch who doesn't understand the concept of teamwork. I, on the other hand, am a team player --"

"Without a team."

"Screw you, Murdock. I'm still an Avenger and so are you. Get off your ass and use your lawyering skills to convince Steve to expand his priorities and stop being such a damn martyr."

"Shit," Matt says, looking stunned stupid. It's a good look for the normally smug bastard, Clint thinks.

"What?"

"I hate it when you're right." His mouth curves into a smile, shaking his head ruefully. "It's a good thing you're not right often."

"Screw you, Murdock," Clint repeats. He has a feeling he's going to be saying that a lot over the next few days.

 

00000000000000000000000000

 

"Wake up, Stevie."

Peter groans and squinches his eyes shut tighter. Bucky's been playing drill sergeant with Peter all afternoon, making him do endless sets of push-ups and sit-ups when he's not trying to force him to fight. Somewhere around his millionth (read: two hundred and fiftieth) push-up, Peter thinks he either passed out or fell asleep from exhaustion. But he'd be wrong. There's a funky chemical taste in the back of his throat. "Did you chloroform me?"

"I brought sandwiches," Bucky says, nudging him with a boot and rattling a shopping bag as he ignores the question.

"You chloroformed me." Dear god, he just whined and his stomach just growled and he's not sure which embarrasses him more. "Why would you do that? Dude...what is wrong with you? No, don't answer that. We could be here for years --"

"You passed out so I made sure you'd stay out," Bucky shrugs, like it's not a big deal. Maybe it's not. Maybe he used to tie up Steve and chloroform him, too. There's a detail the history books never mentioned. "Didn't want you running off and doing something stupid like you always do."

"It's like we've known each other for years," Peter says sarcastically, pressing a hand to his chest and pretending to be overcome with emotion.

The sarcasm is, unfortunately lost on Bucky. "We've known each other since we were little kids, Stevie." 

"Lucky me," Peter mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. That's when he feels the weird round flat object. "What the --?"

Bucky pulls it off of him and grins as he holds it up. "EMP. I took it off a retrieval team a few days ago, thought it might come in handy and it did. Used it on you this morning so they couldn't track you."

"This morning? When you knocked me out?" Peter asks weakly, hoping there's at least some kind of trail for the real Steve to follow.

"Nah, when I grabbed you on the rooftop."

Peter emits a low moan and slaps a hand to his forehead. No cavalry. Just him and a deranged super soldier assassin who thinks he's sickly little Stevie Rogers. Yes, the guy wants to help him and maybe he could but Aunt May and MJ are sitting ducks for Osborn while he's screwing around here being chloroformed by a lunatic who brings him sandwiches.

"Stevie?" Bucky's hands grip his upper arms and there is concern etched on that sometimes-blank face. "Are you havin' one of your asthma attacks?"

"That...that's the last straw. I'm done playing nice," Peter grates between clenched teeth. He twists in Bucky's grip and kicks him in the chest, which gets the man to release him. Furious, Peter punches the Bucky as hard as he can, sending him flying across the open space of the warehouse and he lunges, still punching. Hard. "My aunt is in danger...MJ is in danger...because of you...and your stupid...owwww!"

Bucky stops Peter's rant with a boot to the gut and two quick blows with his fingertips that numb an arm and a leg. A kick to the leg that's not numb sends Peter crashing to the floor at Bucky's feet. "You done?"

"Not by a long shot," Peter lies.

"Yeah, yeah, you could do this all day, huh, you stubborn little punk?" He hauls Peter upright and shakes his head. "I've got your aunt and your girl covered."

"What?" Because really, that makes zero sense. Unless Bucky knows he's not Steve Rogers. Or maybe he knows and... No. "Crazy person logic. I'm trying to figure out crazy person logic."

"Look, Stevie." Bucky manhandles Peter, dragging him over to the workbench and running a finger along the laptop's trackpad, waking it. A split screen shows Mary Jane's house and Peter's house and at the bottom of each screen are coordinates. "Bunch'a people watchin' 'em. HYDRA and someone using Stark tech. Leftover SHIELD maybe. I hacked all of it, can even loop footage to screw with 'em if we need to."

"The Stark is from Stark," Peter says absently, watching as Aunt May moves past a window. Then he looks up at Bucky, not sure whether to comment on how the guy has a better grasp of technology than Captain America or that he knows Peter isn't Steve or just... "Thanks, man. Sorry I hit you."

"You call that those punches?" Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes. "Thought I taught you better'n that."

Peter shakes his arm as it tingles its way back to life and then his eyes light on the pile of thumb drives next to the laptop. "Bucky? What're all these?"

Bucky jabs a finger at each of the five drives. "Therapy sessions. Osborn, Octavius, Dillon, Marko and Toomes."

"Yeah? Let's see," Peter says, picking up the Osborn drive.

Before he can plug it in, Bucky snatches it away, his lips pressed together and expression bordering on wild. "No!"

"But --"

"No!" Bucky growls. Peter flinches and then the assassin's expression softens. "Don't need to hear the things that sick fuck says about you, Stevie."

"W-what kinds of things?"

"Bad things. Dirty things," Bucky snarls. "Gonna rip his tongue out for sayin' 'em and crush his skull for thinkin' 'em in the first place."

"I'm not sure what scares me more, Osborn or you," Peter groans.

"No, oh, no, Stevie, no." Bucky's whole demeanor shifts and he looks less like a crazed assassin and more like the guy from the history books and documentaries who was Steve's big protector before the serum. His hands rest lightly on Peter's shoulders, bending down so they're eye level. "You ain't ever gotta be scared of me."

It's said so earnestly that Peter feels a lump form in his throat which is just crazy, what with the kidnapping and the chloroform and Bucky's insane boot camp from hell. "Okay, fine, I won't be scared of you...just...knock it off with the chloroform and the sneak attacks."

"Gotta teach you. Gotta make sure they can't hurt you," Bucky says, shaking his head, his tone growing frantic and his grip on Peter's shoulders getting tighter. "Don't want them to put you in the chair."

The chair. It takes Peter a second longer than it should to understand what that means because he's distracted by Bucky's increasing agitation. "Is that what they want to do to me?"

"Only way," Bucky says, his words sounding like they're being dragged over sandpaper. "Wipe you...program you...make you obey... Hurts...cold..."

Aw, crap. He is so not equipped to deal with a super soldier meltdown. What the heck is he supposed to do? Slapping Bucky might get him killed. Think, Parker... All he can think of is Matt and the calming breathing exercises they've been doing to help him focus. Maybe that'll work. Cautiously, he takes Bucky's hand and rests it on his chest. "Feel my heartbeat. Focus on it. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Breathe." 

He keeps repeating it, over and over until Bucky shudders, gasps and blinks.

"Are you okay?"

Bucky coughs and then gags, dropping to his knees. He's shaking. No, shivering.

Peter's hand hovers over the broad, muscular back for a moment and then he awkwardly pats the super soldier. "Bucky?"

"S-Stevie?"

"Yeah, it's Stevie," Peter babbles. He has no idea what he's supposed to do or say and webbing the guy when he's down just seems mean. "I'm here, it's Stevie. Nobody's gonna put you in the chair again. You hear me? Not me and not you. No more chairs. We're a team. Spider-man and the Winter Soldier and we are unbeatable together--"

"You're weak --"

"I'm as strong as you are, you big jerk and I've got spider powers."

Bucky peers up at Peter from under his mop of greasy hair. 

"You know this, Bucky, you've got files on me all over the place here. You probably know more about me than I do." 

"Parker." The blue eyed gaze suddenly hardens. "Mission --- NO!" He shoves Peter back. "Stevie. Not Parker. Stevie."

That's when Peter gets it. Somewhere in all that programming they'd stuffed into Bucky's damaged noggin, one of his missions was... Man. Oh man. He's going to need to be Stevie, to not go home or do anything that makes Bucky think of him as Peter Parker so that Bucky isn't triggered into taking him to HYDRA to be turned into... And now it's Peter's turn to gag. He doesn't resist when Bucky pulls him close and presses his forehead to Peter's.

"Keep you safe, Stevie," Bucky murmurs.

"My life is so weird," Peter sighs, wrapping his arms around Bucky.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're in charge. Easy for civilians like Matt to forget when you're the nice guy not leading 'em through alien invasions and whatever. Go easy on him. Blind vigilante lawyer tells you everything you need to know about his personality."
> 
> "Don't forget practicing Catholic," Steve smiles.

Chapter 6

 

 

"Got a sec, Cap?"

Steve doesn't, not really. He and Sam have spent the better part of the afternoon switching gears from trying to figure out Bucky's next HYDRA target to figuring out where he could have taken Peter. Tearing his gaze from the last available footage of Bucky's stolen car heading east on the Grand Central Parkway, he looks up to see both Clint and Matt in civilian gear. It's not surprising at all to see Matt's focus is honed in on Sam, since they haven't been introduced. "Matt Murdock, Sam Wilson."

"A pleasure to meet you, Matt," Sam says, extending a hand and because he has experience working with disabled veterans but doesn't know Matt is Daredevil, he adds, "My hand is to your twelve o'clock."

"Sam is Falcon. He's been helping me since DC," Steve clarifies and waits to see whether Matt gives his identity or goes with the fiction he uses when meeting new people in the Tower that he's just Steve's lawyer.

"Falcon," Matt repeats slowly, as he takes Sam's hand. "A pleasure. I'm Daredevil."

Sam's mouth curves into a delighted grin and he laughs. "First I find out Spider-man's a kid and now... Matt, seriously, no disrespect intended. Actually, nothing but respect here. I'm in awe."

"Wait til you get to know him. You'll get over that real quick," Clint mutters, flopping onto Steve's couch and picking up one of the files on the coffee table. "Go ahead, Matty, tell Steve how *concerned* you are about his priorities."

"My priorities?" Steve echoes. He's used to the bantering and bickering between Clint and Matt but this isn't that. There's tension in the air between these two and, he realizes, it's also directed at him. He glances over at Sam, who obviously senses it too and is already preparing to listen and mediate. Steve has barely known the man a month, but he's exceedingly grateful to have him as a friend. "What about my priorities?"

Matt folds his cane and sets it down on the little table to the right of the door. His fingers hover over his glasses almost shyly and then, very deliberately, Matt takes them off, tucking them into his shirt pocket. His head turns in Steve's direction. "I can appreciate that your search for Barnes was personal. As of 8:22 this morning, that search is Avengers business. Personal has to take a backseat to the safe recovery of our youngest member."

Steve is aghast. "Do you honestly think --"

"This is very personal for you, Steven, and rightly so. I can't even imagine what knowing that Barnes is alive means to you," Matt says, in soothing lawyer's tones. "I'd be happy to conduct a parallel investigation and coordinate when --"

"The hell you will," Steve cuts him off firmly. He's got the lay of the land now. Matt sees him as a friend, not a leader and he's under the mistaken impression that three weeks away means Steve isn't a very effective one. He injects the bark of command into his voice. "You said it yourself. This is Avengers business and, last I checked, I'm still the one leading the team ---"

"Begging your pardon for the interruption, Captain, but Sir is also investigating Peter's disappearance," JARVIS announces.

His personal leave is officially over. Steve rubs a hand over his tired eyes, glances at Sam and steps back into the role of Captain America. "JARVIS, gather everyone in the conference room in five minutes. Divert all material relating to the Parker and Barnes investigations there. Tell Stark attendance is mandatory and to be on time."

Clint, like Sam, is adept at reading the mood of a room. He slips to his feet, brushes past Matt and hands the man his cane. "I don't think we ever showed you where the conference room is."

Matt hesitates for a moment and Steve can only imagine what *he's* reading with his enhanced senses. Whatever it is, he actually seems chastened as he takes Clint's arm. "Fine. Show me."

Steve shuts the door behind them and raises a hand when Sam starts to speak, waiting until he hears the elevator doors close and then counts off thirty seconds. "JARVIS, play some Glenn Miller, low volume. I'd like a little privacy."

Sam arches an eyebrow.

"Enhanced senses," Steve explains, speaking softly. "Matt can hear my heartbeat four blocks away and I know he's probably trying to eavesdrop."

"You know all the interesting people, Captain Rogers." Sam chuckles and then lowers his tone to match Steve's. "So, Man with the Plan, you got any idea how you're gonna deal with that screwed up dynamic when you go into the conference room? Here's a hint, barking orders at that crew isn't gonna work."

"Don't I know it," Steve sighs, scratching at the back of his neck. "I had no idea Peter and Matt were that close. That might be new, actually. Peter was my..."

"The kid still worships you," Sam assures him, "but I think you're kind of on a pedestal with him. He might relate more to Matt, with the whole vigilante thing and all."

Steve nods. "I saw some of that before DC but I didn't realize..."

"That they got close enough for Matt to crawl up your butt about rescuing the kid? And he's the type to challenge authority. What is he, a lawyer?"

"How'd you guess?"

"You really have to ask?" Sam folds his arms across his chest. "You want my advice, right?"

"Please. I know I need to remind the team --"

"You're in charge. Easy for civilians like Matt to forget when you're the nice guy not leading 'em through alien invasions and whatever. Go easy on him. Blind vigilante lawyer tells you everything you need to know about his personality."

"Don't forget practicing Catholic," Steve smiles.

"What were you thinking?" Sam teases and then becomes serious. "Remind them you're in charge and then prove you've got your head in the game."

"Of course I do! I can't believe --"

"Stop. I've been with you all day, remember? You were so focused on the news about Bucky that the name of the school your youngest team member goes to slipped right past you. And I have to tell you, Peter's cute little girlfriend didn't seem very reassured by anything you said." As always, this is said without any recrimination or reproach because Sam is that good.

Recrimination or not, Steve was raised also Catholic and God, does he feel the guilt. "I've been screwing up."

"Your priorities were focused on a personal matter. I'd say they're in the right place now. You just have to makes sure your team knows it and they know you're still Captain America. So far, I'd say you're on the right track. Just ask Matt because it'll be a while before he decides he's the one giving orders again."

"Alright, Wilson, let's go over the plan."

"Welcome back, Captain America."

 

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Matt's been an auxiliary member of the Avengers for a little over two months. In that time, he's attended team dinners and -- God help him -- movie nights. Aside from the disappointing run-in with the Kravinoff brothers, he's never had a chance to work with the Avengers as a team in the field. This meeting? He's not sure what to expect. The Steve Rogers he heard upstairs isn't the same Steve he's used to spending time with. He's just gotten his nose rapped with a rolled up newspaper and damn if he didn't deserve it for stepping on the man's toes.

"Let Steve speak," Clint warns him. "That goes for you, too, Tony."

Before Stark can say a word, Steve and Sam enter the conference room and predictably, Steve stands at the head of the table, with Sam at his right. 

"Peter Parker was abducted from his high school in Queens this morning by Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier," Steve begins. "He --"

"Forcibly removed maybe but not abducted," Tony interrupts and Matt can tell by that he's just flipped off Clint. "Here's a bit of useful trivia for you, old man. All of the city's security cameras in the area and the ones at the school were disabled eight minutes before the first gunshots were fired. Luckily, we don't need surveillance cameras because we've got a bunch of teenagers who insist on chronicling every moment of their lives and posting it to social media. I've got a chronology for you. Ready?"

Matt hears Steve's pulse speed up but the single word he speaks is full of command. "Go."

"JARVIS, the visual composite please? Matt, stop me if my play by play is in any way lacking." There isn't even a hint of the usual teasing sarcasm in Tony's voice. "Eight ten am, Liz Allen records Flash Thompson and some idiot named Kong giving our boy Peter a wedgie outside the school's main entrance. JARVIS, zoom in on the van in the background, please. Watch the guy come out and open that manhole cover so he can kill the power to the neighborhood, thus putting the cameras out of commission. Next we have Tandy Bowen's recording after the first shots are fired. She does a great job capturing the mass panic and more importantly the extraction team fanning out. Freeze the image, JARVIS. Zoom in. The lady is a mercenary who calls herself Silver Sable, the ugly one over there is Powell and that one is Chen. Then we come to Mary Jane's video. Sable's guy Quentino was on the roof. We know Peter took him out because when the SWAT team hauled him off, he was covered in webbing. Now watch. See Peter and Barnes getting into it? Barnes is about to shoot someone on the ground, probably Sable and Peter stopped him. Then we have the grenade that put an end to the school's gym and Barnes making off with Peter. Any questions so far?"

"Just one," Matt says. "Since when does HYDRA hire mercenaries?"

"Probably since Bucky's been tearing through their operatives," Sam tells him. "I'm guessing they need to bring in more guys from overseas 'cause all the ones here in the US are dead."

"Now we come to Barnes' great escape," Tony continues. "JARVIS? We know that Barnes took off in a stolen Charger -- nice choice by the way -- and took it onto the Grand Central Parkway heading east towards Long Island where he tossed a grenade just before the exit for the Northern State Parkway. That caused a pileup with no casualties but quite a few injuries. Cameras on the Northern State track Barnes to Shelter Rock Road in Manhasset. The Charger was found in the parking lot of the Lord and Taylor there and Barnes made off with a white Toyota Camry, which wasn't reported missing until the employee who owned it ended her shift around two in the afternoon. I've got JARVIS trying to track the car but it's one of the most common makes and colors, and our boy switched out the plates, so it's like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Barnes could have gone in a dozen different directions, including all the way east to Montauk or all the way north to Niagara Falls."

"Good work, Tony," Steve says and Matt agrees with him. "Matt, what do you have for us?"

"I've been through the SHIELD files for each of the escaped men," Matt says slowly as he realizes that an Avengers staff meeting isn't that different from litigation team strategy meetings at Landman & Zack. "Peter's biggest concern out of the bunch is Osborn. Leaving the psychological jargon and diagnoses for what he is aside, he's obsessed with Peter, to the point where he referred to Peter as his son and then threatened to kill Peter's aunt and girlfriend and then beat Peter to death for disobeying him. What he actually wanted with Peter is unclear though the doctors have their own thoughts on that." Matt pauses and lets that sink in. "We also know that Osborn's relationship with his own son is...frankly, bizarre. He hired doctors to condition and program the boy to alter his memory and personality and to respond to certain triggers --"

"That wasn't in the files," Steve interrupts sharply.

Matt nods. Of all the things in the world he holds sacred, the secrets of the confessional are paramount, but there are exceptions and he's not a priest. "Peter told me. Harry Osborn's health and welfare aren't my concern at the moment --"

"Shouldn't he be?" Sam asks. "He's a kid, too."

"Osborn doesn't care about him. He wants Peter and he will do anything to get him, including using the other escapees to do it. I mean to make sure that doesn't happen." Matt focuses on Steve's heart which is beating just a little faster because surely the man knows what's coming. "The wild card in this is Barnes. What's his motivation in all this? He doesn't know Peter --"

"He knows HYDRA." Sam's voice is the calm to the storm that Matt hears rumbling through Steve's chest. "We can assume HYDRA's recruited Osborn and his friends. Peter won't go willingly. Barnes didn't go willingly and they tortured him and abused him until he did what they wanted. There's no way he'd let a child go through that --"

"Is he even capable of that much independent thought?" Matt counters.

"He pulled me from the Potomac," Steve says firmly. "I'd say he is."

Tony clears his throat. "I've got Peter's aunt and Mary Jane under surveillance. They've been under surveillance since the escape."

"I'd like to know why it is that nobody thought to tell me about this three weeks ago. Yes, I was working on something else but I wasn't out of touch and you all knew it," Steve says. Matt's heard Steve sound irritated but he's never heard Steve sound as completely pissed off as he does now. "All of you knew that our fifteen year old member was the target of four dangerous enhanced adult enemies and one ex-SHIELD operative. Each of you clearly cared enough to do everything except coordinate your efforts and include me so that we could actually do something effective to protect him."

"He's not exactly helpless," Tony points out. 

"No, but he's inexperienced," Steve says evenly. "We've been training him, sure, but whatever we've done isn't nearly enough to for him deal with this kind of threat by himself. Honestly, I doubt any single one of us is capable of dealing with these five as a group on our own. We need to work as a team because *they* will." He pauses, lets that sink in and then gives his first order. "The first thing we need to do is bring his aunt and Mary Jane in --"

"Without compromising his identity," Matt interrupts. He can defer to Steve's leadership but someone has to speak for Peter and make his wishes known. "He's not ready to tell her and it's not our place to do it for him. And before you say anything, Tony, there are very valid, very personal reasons why he hasn't --"

"Which you just happen to know?" Tony asks. "He came out and told you but he won't tell us?"

"Yes."

Steve slams his fist on the table and there's a loud crack as the wood splits. "Enough. Clint, I need you to coordinate with Maria Hill to do something about May Parker and Mary Jane. Make sure it's subtle. The woman's gone through enough this year losing her husband without us adding to it. Tony, keep working surveillance footage and expand your search for any sightings of our five fugitives --"

"Already on it and so far, they're laying low."

"Good, keep doing it. Matt..." Steve pauses and Matt knows it's deliberate, to remind him that he takes orders now. The thing is, Matt doesn't think he'll mind as much as he thought he would. He nods at Steve and hears a soft inhalation that acknowledges his silent apology. "You're on research. Natasha's been pulling data from every HYDRA facility that Bucky's destroyed. So have I. Some of it's new information, some of it is already what's out there --"

"I can have JARVIS de-duplicate data and add audio description to any videos," Tony volunteers. "It might take time but in the end it'll save you hours." There's a pause and then Tony clears his throat. Matt hears his heart rate increase, surprised to find that the cocky bastard actually seems a little nervous. "Speaking of hours, I have a prototype Braille monitor I'd like you to test for me, Matt. If you don't mind Happy driving you home, I can send it with you, along with a new laptop. You'll like the faster processor and the keyboard."

"Thank you," Matt says and he's so distracted by the kind gesture that Clint succeeds in kicking him under the table.

Clint chuckles. "Tell the class what you've learned about teamwork, Matthew."

"Teamwork is good," Matt says, dutifully.

Steve exhales and Matt can hear the exasperation without him even giving voice to it. "Teamwork is the only way we're going to bring Peter home safely. As Matt pointed out, we have four men with enhanced abilities, one who uses wings and grenades and Bucky to contend with. Unless I say otherwise, Bucky is a recovery operation and not an enemy combatant. It's now 2219 hours and each of you will report status to me every three hours unless you uncover something urgent, in which case I expect an immediate report. I will make sure information is shared to the rest of the group. Are there any questions?"

Until now, Steve has been the nice guy with the old fashioned manners and sense of propriety. That guy isn't the one at the head of the table, giving orders. Matt realizes that after two months, he's finally met Captain America and now he gets what Steve's been trying to tell him about the Avengers. Matt's not a soldier and Stick would be the first to say he can't follow orders worth a damn, but today he intends to follow Captain America.

He can't wait to hear what Foggy is going to say when Matt explains what being an Avenger really means.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "One guy, Bucky. Please?" No. Do not whine at the super soldier. Oh, the heck with it and for good measure, he makes the puppy dog eyes that never fail with Aunt May. "Just one. His name is Daredevil."

Chapter 7

 

"Explain this to me again, Brock." Osborn shoots him what Rumlow privately refers to as Osborn's 'obnoxious captain of industry' look. It's the perfect combination of condescending and smarmy and Rumlow is sure that it's made Osborn's employees tremble in their overpriced Ferragamo loafers. Too bad for Osborn that Rumlow's not some bootlicking corporate toady that bends over when Osborn blusters. "Explain to me why you expect me to recover this...asset thing instead of my son."

"You and Octavius are too valuable to the cause," Rumlow tells him and squashes the impulse to instruct Osborn never to call him anything other than 'sir' again. That can come later. "We need you in the labs, not clocking field time chasing after Parker. Recovery is one of the asset's specialties."

Osborn's psych evaluations label him as psychotic, megalomaniacal, sociopathic, and manic-depressive. He's also off-the-charts brilliant. "And yet here you are, needing me to recover your precious asset." He snorts derisively. "The thing is a dinosaur. Binary code in an world of artificial intelligence --"

"The 'thing' is a finely honed HYDRA weapon and the orders are to recover it."

"Finely honed? Have you looked at its brain scans? It's little wonder the thing hasn't broken its programming before --- oh. Oh. It has." Osborn smirks at him and steeples his fingers, resting them under his chin. "And what did you geniuses do then? Let me guess. Some torture to beat obedience back into it and make it see the error of its ways? And then what? More of your 'wiping'?"

If Osborn wasn't crazy, couldn't turn into a goblin thing and shoot fucking fireballs from his hands, Rumlow would kick his face in for that smirk. And then he'd tell Osborn what his plans were for the Parker brat. Instead, he hits Osborn with his coldest look, the one that makes the Winter Soldier drop to his knees and cringe. Osborn's smirk fades. "Finely honed," Rumlow repeats. "Trained. Programmed." He bares his teeth at Osborn. "Let me spell it out for you, Norman. You and your band of freaks recover the asset, trigger him and set him loose. He'll fetch the boy --"

"How long has my boy been one of your asset's objectives?"

"You're a smart one, Norman. How long do you think?" Osborn would benefit from some time in the chair he thinks as he forces a friendly grin. "That was before we were able to recruit you, of course. Now you're one of us. Your boy is going to be one of us, too, just like you want. All you have to do is send the best weapon in our arsenal to go get him."

Osborn's eyes narrow. "You make it sound so simple, Brock, but if it were, your people would have tracked your asset by now, wouldn't they?"

Now it's Rumlow's turn to smirk. "It's not the tracking that's hard."

 

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Time to go, Stevie."

Peter nearly jumps out of his skin as Bucky tosses Peter's mask, gloves and web shooters at him. He's spent the last few hours sitting quietly while Bucky watched over Aunt May and MJ. Sitting quietly was not only because Bucky's not exactly a great conversationalist but also because Peter now has to worry about accidentally saying a trigger word. Okay, maybe that's not likely since trigger words aren't usually ones that come up in ordinary conversation and Bucky thinks most of his triggers are Russian phrases anyway. The key word in that sentence is 'most' and Peter throws caution to the wind the second Bucky closes the laptop. "Wh-what do you mean, time to go? And what happened to watching over --?"

"They're gone."

"What?!"

"Moved." Bucky grabs the duffel bag he's kept under the workbench and begins rummaging inside. He pulls out some kind of huge gun and slings its strap over his shoulder. 

"Moved where? Hey! I'm talking to you, T-1000!" Peter has his web-shooters on now and he's got them aimed squarely at Bucky, ready to web him and go after Aunt May and MJ.

The super soldier turns, knife in hand and expression calm, like Peter doesn't even register as a threat. "No idea. Former SHIELD agents Barton, Clinton Francis and Hill, Maria executed extraction ten minutes ago. Phase one is complete."

"Phase one? Phase one of what?!" This is his life. He can't even take a moment to be relieved that Aunt May and MJ are being moved somewhere safe. "I thought you were keeping me safe, not launching a military campaign!"

"Phase one," Bucky recites, stuffing grenades into the hidden pockets of his tactical gear. "Secure the primary and secondary targets. Objective accomplished." His eyes lock with Peter's. "Phase two, launch offensive against HYDRA recovery team."

"Launch offensive? B-but --"

"You thought we were going to hole up here and wait for them to come to us?"

"But that's crazy! There's only two of us!" And a lot of grenades, Peter notices. Bucky seems to really like grenades. Or maybe they were on special at the insane assassin supply store, like a 'buy one, get two' kind of deal.

Bucky pauses, yet another gun in his hand, and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay, I get it, you're the most dangerous thing ever," Peter concedes, raising both hands. "B-but...um..." Think Peter. Think fast. "You were part of a team, weren't you? The Howling Commandos? A-and you didn't work alone in DC, right? I know people --"

"No."

"One guy, Bucky. Please?" No. Do not whine at the super soldier. Oh, the heck with it and for good measure, he makes the puppy dog eyes that never fail with Aunt May. "Just one. His name is Daredevil."

 

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Matt doesn't get overwhelmed easily but he is overwhelmed by the thought Tony put into the design of his Braille monitor. It's designed to lay flat, like a book, with adjustable feet underneath to prop it to a comfortable height. The size is what undoes him. Braille displays as a rule only translate a few lines of text. Stark's seventeen inch display has over fifty lines and a small space to the bottom right that translates images. The experience reminds him of what it was like to read books when he still had sight and he says as much in the e-mail he sends to Tony. Stark's response is classic Tony, full of snark and deflection, asking whether Matt is sure he can handle all seventeen inches.

It's because he's overwhelmed and focusing on the monitor that he doesn't notice the familiar sound of Peter's heartbeat until it's two blocks away, accompanied by someone else with a powerful, slow thumping heartbeat. Matt's focus adjusts quickly. Peter's nervous but not panicked. His companion isn't nervous at all. The man is big and he smells like sweat, dried blood, metal and guns. It's the soft, mechanical whirring noise that confirms the man's identity. 

They're moving slowly enough to give Matt the time he needs to fling open his closet, grab one of his old masks and his baton and when they arrive on his rooftop, he's waiting.

"Hey," Peter says, waving a hand in greeting. "I brought a friend. Is that okay?"

"Pe --"

"Stevie. You, um, really need to remember to call me Stevie, okay?"

Stevie? As in Rogers? Pushing aside his concerns about Barnes' stability, he doesn't smell blood on Peter and hasn't noticed him favoring any limbs, or heard any sounds of injuries. Still, he asks, "Are you hurt, Stevie?"

"Bucky's been, uh, watching my six, haven't you, pal?" There's the soft whisper of Peter's glove patting Kevlar. "Go on. Talk to him. Sorry, Daredevil, he's kinda shy --"

"Shut up, Stevie," the Winter Soldier growls, but sounds...affectionate?

"He's like a kitten," Peter goes on. "No, a teddy bear --"

"You call me a Bucky Bear, I'll put you over my knee, you little punk."

Just when Matt thinks he's getting a handle on the situation, Peter drops the bombshell. "So, Daredevil, remember that story I told you about how my best friend and his dad finally managed to get along? It's a lot like my relationship with Bucky, here."

"Oh," Matt breathes as the pieces fall into place. Programming. Trigger phrases. Trigger. Phrases. Stevie, not Peter. "Yes, I do, Stevie. So you two are old friends, then."

"We go waaaaaaay back," Peter confirms for him. 

Matt's no expert on trigger phrases or psychological programming, not by a long shot, but that doesn't stop him from being impressed by the force of will Barnes is exerting to circumvent whatever he's been instructed to do with Peter. He asks very carefully, "Is this a social call, Stevie?"

"Kinda," Bucky answers for Peter and while Matt can't see the smile on Bucky's face, he can hear it. "You like parties, Daredevil?"

"Are you going to a party, Bucky?"

"Nah, we're throwing one. Gonna be a big surprise party for our friends. Lots of fireworks."

"Sounds like fun." Foggy is going to kill him if he doesn't get himself killed first. "Stevie, do you and Bucky mind if we invite Cli --?"

"Hawkeye?" Peter finishes. There's a rustling sound and when Peter speaks again his voice isn't muffled by his mask when he whines, "Please, Bucky? Just him. Nobody else. I promise. Pretty please?"

"Stevie," Bucky growls.

Peter fakes a cough and a wheezing inhalation of breath. 

Matt's eyebrows shoot up under his mask.

"Fine," Bucky grumbles.

He'd better not get killed. Foggy is going to love hearing how Peter Parker pretended to be sickly Stevie Rogers and manipulated the Winter Soldier.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's like the punch line of a joke, this gathering of a blind guy, a deaf guy and a brain-damaged assassin.

Chapter 8

 

"Hey Cap?" Steve tears his attention from the surveillance footage and looks up to see Clint wearing his suit, with his quiver of arrows slung across his shoulder. "I, uh...you wanted to be notified if something urgent came up."

Steve's heart leaps into this throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sam take a step closer to him and Tony lower the Starkpad he'd been fiddling with, giving Clint his full attention. "Clint?"

Clint hovers in the doorway to Stark's lab. "Matt just sent me an e-mail. Barnes and the kid are at his place -- whoa! Hear me out, big guy!"

Reluctantly, Steve sinks back onto the stool he'd just launched himself from and nods.

"JARVIS, you want to show the guys the e-mail?" Clint asks.

A holographic image of an e-mail appears in front of Steve and as he reads the short message, his grip tightens on Tony's workbench until the metal groans from the pressure. "My God," he manages, after he's read it for the second time. He's not sure what troubles him more, the fine line Bucky is straddling to overcome his programming, that Bucky intends to go after HYDRA and Osborn or Matt's suggestion that Steve stay away because that might trigger Bucky into hurting Peter.

"Steve," Sam says in the voice he uses when he's navigating around a delicate subject, "I'm not an expert or anything, but I'm going to suggest you take Matt's advice and not go charging in to save the day."

"No," Steve agrees. "But I can't just sit here doing nothing. I think --"

"Hey! Capsicle, I've got some toys that might help." Tony leaps to his feet and crosses the room, opening one of the closets and pulling out something dark. "Anything we can do to reinforce Bucky's conviction that he's with you and not Peter is good, right? Check this out." He holds up an all-black suit with a stylized white spider symbol across the chest. It doesn't escape Steve's notice that it seems to be designed to match his stealth suit. "Sam? Good idea?"

Sam shoots Steve a look as he says,"Can't hurt."

"I'll say," Clint agrees, reaching out to touch the lightweight material. "He'll also be less of a target for those maniacs if he can blend into the shadows." 

"And there's the added bonus that he might actually be taken seriously for a change." Tony snarks. 

Steve's noticed that about Stark. The man insults and riles people up as easily as breathing but he also does things like making stealth Spider-man suits and Braille monitors.

"Got something for you, too, Hawkass," Tony says, rummaging in a desk drawer and pulling out a small box that he tosses at Clint who catches it and looks puzzled. "Seriously? They're hearing aids-slash-comm links-slash-trackers, all in one teeny tiny package."

They all watch as Clint puts the new hearing aids in. His brow furrows. "There's something else different about these."

Tony looks down at his sneakers. "Murdock likes bragging how he can hear the old ones. Let's see if he can hear these, huh?" Raising his head, he smirks, "I feel like the wizard in -- don't you dare say it, Rogers!"

"I get that reference." It's a struggle to get the words out and Steve can hear the brittleness in his voice even as he manages the joke along with a smile that he doesn't really feel. "Clint --"

"Hey, cheer up a little, Steve." Clint taps at his ear, fiddling with the hearing aids. "First off, you definitely put the fear of God into Murdock about teamwork earlier because he sent that e-mail. Second, look how well Peter's doing. He brought Barnes to Matt and he's bringing me in --"

"And if Bucky's control slips?" Tony wonders aloud. 

"Peter has his abilities and his webs," Steve says and he's reassuring himself along with the team. "He's been testing the formula on me, making it stronger each time and seeing how long it takes for me to break free. He should be able to hold Bucky long enough for me to get there if anything happens. Thanks to Tony, we'll have ears on you when Bucky goes after HYDRA."

"Yeah, my ears," Clint mutters and then winks at Steve with a wry grin. "I know it's killing you to have to sit on your hands but I also know you can do it, Captain America."

Steve forces a matching grin. He's worried. Nothing can stop him from worrying when he's forced to sit on the sidelines like this. On the other hand, he doesn't need Sam to tell him that he's succeeded in getting his team to act like a team.

Clint and Matt. Working together. Yeah, he's definitely worried.

 

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Clint balances the boxes of pizza, a shopping bag with a six-pack and a duffel bag as he sidles past Peter into Murdock's apartment. His quiver scrapes against the wall in the narrow hallway. "Can you believe I found a pizza joint open at 3am?" He flashes a smile at Barnes. "Hey, I'm Hawkeye --"

"Barton. Clinton Francis," Barnes says, grabbing Peter's arm and trying to protectively pull the kid behind him. "Designation, Hawkeye. Affiliations, SHIELD and Avengers Initiative."

Peter pulls himself free and gets into Barnes' face. "Cut it out, you big goof. He's my friend. We invited him, remember?"

"Threat level --"

"Nonexistent. Stand down, soldier!" Peter orders.

To Clint's everlasting shock and amazement, Barnes stands down. These are the times when he wishes Murdock could see because really, he needs the eye contact. As if he could read Clint's mind -- or more like he's reading air currents and body temperature and whatnot -- Murdock's mouth twitches upwards. Apparently, he's been enjoying the Stevie and Bucky show since before Clint's arrival. "I brought you a change of clothes, uh, Stevie."

Peter pats Barnes' chest and turns towards Clint. His gaze ticks to the duffel in Clint's hand and then he launches himself at Clint, flinging his arms around him. "For earlier."

It takes Clint a second to figure out the kid is talking about relocating his aunt and girlfriend because he's being hugged for God's sake. He awkwardly wraps the arm without the duffel around the kid and guesses that Barnes must have somehow tapped the surveillance feed. "It's all good."

When Peter pulls away, he's wiping at his eyes. "Um, yeah. Well, thanks."

"Here," Clint says, thrusting the duffel at the kid and feeling all kinds of uncomfortable. "Go change." 

They all watch -- well, except for Murdock -- as the kid disappears into the bedroom and an awkward silence settles. It's like the punch line of a joke, this gathering of a blind guy, a deaf guy and a brain-damaged assassin. Clint is reminded of an old Saturday Night Live skit where Tonto, Tarzan and Frankenstein sang a Christmas Carol. Barnes is definitely the Frankenstein in this situation, he decides and Murdock would have to be Tonto because Clint is nobody's sidekick.

The silence is broken when Peter emerges from Murdock's bedroom in the new suit. He's looking down at himself. "Oh wow...wow..."

Barnes goes completely still. "Stevie."

Clint's fingers curl around his bow.

Murdock tenses.

Peter, on the other hand, shows absolutely no sense of self-preservation as he launches himself into motion, getting into Barnes' personal space and flashing a huge smile. "Do you like it? It's black, just like yours."

Barnes' reaches out and ruffles Peter's hair, returning the smile. "Looks sharp, Stevie. The dames're gonna eat you up with a spoon."

Damn, the kid is smart. Or he's just lucky. And he's completely reckless but it works for him, the way it works for Cap, Clint marvels. He lets out a breath. "So, I've got plain, pepperoni and one with the works."

"Oh thank God," Peter moans happily, flipping open a box and helping himself to a slice with the works. "I'm starving."

"None for me, thanks," Murdock says and judging by the smirk on his face, Clint doesn't want to know the reason why he doesn't want any. The guy could ruin a drink of water with that super sniffer of his. 

"How about you, Bucky?" Clint asks Barnes. 

The assassin shakes his head while Peter flashes him a look of warning that Clint doesn't quite get until he thinks for a second and realizes that maybe the guy hasn't had solid food in seventy something years. 

Well, that just means more beer and pizza for him and the kid, Clint decides. He pulls out the six pack and hands the kid a bottle. "Bet you could use that."

"Um...no?"

"Are you giving Stevie a beer?" Murdock asks, feigning horror. "Bucky? Should Stevie be drinking booze?"

"Won't hurt him," Bucky shrugs. "'Sides, we're not launching our attack until later and I could do with a break from the punk's mouth."

Clint's starting to warm up to Barnes. The guy's a lot more fun than Murdock and he's not even playing with a full deck. "See? Bucky says it's okay. How about you, Blind Man's Bluff? You want one?"

"I do not," Murdock says and plucks the bottle from Peter's hand. "And neither does Stevie. Right, Stevie?"

"Um, right," Peter agrees uncertainly.

"You really are a nerd," Clint tells him, popping open his own bottle. He holds the beer out to Peter. "Go on. Try it, Stevie."

Murdock sighs wearily. "Fine. He can have one sip. Just one, mind you."

"But I don't want one," Peter protests.

"He doesn't want any," Murdock echoes. 

"Chrissakes," Barnes mutters. "Stop being a girl and have a drink, Stevie."

The kid looks like he's about to drink poison as he takes the bottle from Clint. He sniffs, wrinkles his nose and takes a small sip, makes a face and shoves the bottle back. "Ugh! That's disgusting!"

"Good boy, Stevie," Murdock praises him. "You two heathens ought to be ashamed of yourselves --"

"Oh, here we go," Clint groans. "Brace yourself, Barnes." Oh shit. He called the guy 'Barnes'. Should he have done that?

Turns out, it doesn't matter because Barnes snorts with laughter. "I like your friends, Stevie."

"Thank Christ," Clint mutters. It doesn't dawn on him until four slices later that the real 'Stevie' has heard this entire exchange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Tonto, Tarzan and Frankenstein skit Clint is thinking about can be found here: https://screen.yahoo.com/seasons-greeting-tarzan-tonto-frankenstein-000000685.html. (That's Phil Hartman, Jon Lovitz and Kevin Nealon and they did a few of these.)
> 
> If you're wondering whether the costume I've described here is the Venom one, yes it is. However, for purposes of this story, this one is just lightweight Stark armor and nothing life threatening. Come on, you know you love the look as much as I do.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell me, Steve, were you a whiner?"
> 
> "What?"
> 
> "Bucky crumbles whenever Peter whines at him. It's actually kind of adorable."

Chapter 9

 

Peter comes awake with a start, clinging to Matt's ceiling and his spider-sense tearing his skull apart from the inside. His heart is pounding wildly as he yells out a warning. "Get down!"

Of course nobody gets down. Why would they? These are the guys that go running into trouble which is why Peter isn't surprised when Bucky pulls out some kind of gigantic gun, Clint nocks an arrow and Matt's got his billy club in hand.

"What the he --" is all Matt manages to get out as his windows explode inward and the room is swept up into a violent sandstorm.

Coughing, Peter snags his mask with a webline and is relieved to learn that he can actually breathe and see when he puts it on. That relief lasts for less than half a second before bolts of electricity light up Matt's living room and Electro concentrates his attack on Bucky. The scariest part of that is how Bucky doesn't make a sound when the bolts of electricity hits him.

"Who needs a fancy chair to wipe you, Soldier?" Electro gloats. "Got all the voltage you need right here." 

"Run Stevie!" Bucky chokes as a giant hand made out of sand punches him in the face.

Peter hesitates. Neither Electro nor the Sandman seem interested in him. They're focused on Bucky but Clint and Matt are caught up in the attack. Both of them are choking on sand, unable to breathe. They're not civilians but they're close enough and they need his help. 

"Hey, Sparky! Over here!" Peter gets Electro's attention and gives him a face full of web fluid to slow him down. He can't do anything about the Sandman but he hopes it's enough to help Bucky while he grabs Matt and Clint and gets them up to the roof where there is fresh air. Peter webs his friends together, heaves the bundle of them over his shoulder and winces as they bump their way up the stairs to the roof. "Oh god, sorry, sorry, sorry..."

Clint isn't breathing.

Peter yanks his mask off, tilts Clint's head back, clears his friend's airway and starts giving him CPR. Behind him, Matt starts coughing and Peter nearly weeps with joy. And then something explodes below them in Matt's apartment. "C'mon, Clint. Breathe. I gotta get back down there, buddy."

"Fu--" Clint coughs and spits out a mouthful of sand, "--ccckkkk."

"My thoughts exactly," Peter agrees, tugging his mask back on, just as his spider-sense tingles again. He drags Clint aside just in time to avoid a fireball and to see who threw it.

Norman Osborn's green and ugly self is standing there. "My boy."

"You...you sick freak!"

"Is that any way to talk to your father, Peter?" Osborn scolds, his fangs making the words sound sibilant. "Your friends are already paying the price for your disobedience but you can save them." He holds out his hand. "Take my hand and come with me."

He needs to get Matt and Clint away from here. He needs to help Bucky. He needs to get Norman Osborn out of his life once and for all. "Okay."

Osborn makes a noise that may or may not be laughter. "Come, my beautiful boy, my perfect creation --"

Peter takes two steps forward and then shuts him up with the right hook that Steve taught him how to throw. Osborn goes flying backwards, crashing against the parapet and sending shattered bricks down to the sidewalk. "Psych!"

"You ungrateful sniveling little...grrggghhhhhhh," Oborn loses the train of thought and growls incoherently.

"Well, there's a persuasive argument. Your stockholders must have loved hearing you speak, Normie." Peter throws himself at Osborn, using everything he's learned in training. A punch to Osborn's throat has him gasping for air and Peter just keeps hitting him with everything he has and not giving Osborn an opening to punch back. He can't wait to tell Steve and Matt how their lessons are paying off. "Not! Your! Boy! So! Tired! Of! You!" 

The last punch sends Osborn crashing through another section of parapet and hopefully to go splat on the sidewalk, though Peter knows he's not that lucky. As much as Peter wants to go after him, getting his injured friends out of harm's way is the priority. He webs them together again, heaves the bundle over his shoulder and starts swinging towards the waterfront and away from where innocent people could get hurt. Where Bucky's getting hurt right now. God, he wishes he could be in two places at once.

"I'm sorry," Peter apologizes again as they land gracelessly on the pier. He tears the webbing, freeing them, and swings back to Matt's building, ready to help Bucky, but he arrives too late.

Everybody is gone.

 

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"That was an experience," Clint rasps. "You okay, Murdock?"

Matt nods. He isn't. Not really. The sandstorm in his apartment interfered with his senses and threw off his equilibrium even as it choked the life out of him. He's still recovering and it's taking him much longer than normal to figure out where he is. 

"We're on Pier 81," Clint tells him. "And you're smelling the Hudson River."

"Thanks."

"I figured sand in your ears and nose maybe messed you up a little." He coughs again. 

"Worse than having the spins," Matt admits. His voice is raspy and talking is painful.

"You get the --? Good to know." 

Tilting his head, he can hear the soft whirring of a metal arm and the slow, steady thumping of Bucky's heart three blocks south. Peter is in Matt's apartment. Above them, he hears and smells Tony's latest Iron Man armor approaching. The beat of unusually large wings and Steve's Sousa march heartbeat tell him that Sam is carrying Steve. "Company's coming."

"Where's Peter?" Steve asks, even before Sam sets him down. 

"My place." Matt rubs at his throat and hears Bucky's heartbeat retreating. He considers telling Steve but then he realizes that Bucky is doubling back to where Peter is. 

Clint coughs and spits. "Stark, any ideas how to fight a guy that can turn himself into a sandstorm and choke the life out of you?"

Tony's face plate flips up. "What am I? An amateur?"

"Yes," Matt says with a wry grin as he staggers to his feet. His face and neck sting from being pelted by sand. "Apparently, I haven't missed anything by not going to the beach all these years."

"And here I was, ready to invite you to my place in the Hamptons," Tony quips. Matt hears the transmission just as Tony says, "We need to get over to Matt's place. Bucky doesn't seem to be himself. Or, at least the self we've known for the past two hours."

Steve is already a block away when Tony finishes the sentence and Matt is right behind him, taking to the rooftops.

 

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"Oh, thank god you're alright!" Peter exclaims.

Bucky doesn't say a word but his entire body is shaking. His jaw is clenched and when Peter looks in his eyes, there is nobody home. Bucky has left the building and Peter is getting a first-hand look at the Winter Soldier. Peter is not ashamed to admit that the Winter Soldier scares the pants off of him.

He considers webbing the Winter Soldier to incapacitate him but considering the electrical burns and the cuts all over his face from the Sandman, Peter thinks that the guy has been through enough. Besides, Peter wants to believe the reason he's not being attacked is because Bucky is in there somewhere. Tugging off his mask, Peter drops it to the floor. "Hey, pal. It's me, Stevie. I'm okay. See?"

There's a deadly looking knife in the Winter Soldier's hand and Peter could swear that it wasn't there a second ago. Cold blue eyes watch Peter with a predatory gleam.

"Oh boy." Everything Peter knows about Steve Rogers comes from history books. Steve doesn't like to talk about himself or about the past. There's no way Peter can fake a shared experience, unless Bucky wants to complain about how much Coca Cola costs today. On the other hand, Peter and Steve were both sickly little kids. Vaccines meant Peter didn't have most of Steve's childhood ailments but Peter did have asthma, allergies, anemia and a very sensitive stomach. He knows full well what an asthma attack sounds like and he's not proud -- okay, maybe a little -- of faking his share to get out of gym class.

Bucky twitches at the first shuddering, wheezing gasp. The knife in his hand shakes at the second.

Peter drops to his knees and does it a third time. He closes his eyes and is about to go for a fourth when he's grabbed roughly and hauled backward against Bucky's chest. No spider sense tingling is a very good sign.

"In. Out. C'mon, you little punk." Bucky's hand rubs Peter's chest in time with their breathing.

Uncle Ben used to hold him like this when he had his attacks and even though there's the distinct possibility that Bucky might snap his neck, Peter finds the contact so comforting that he relaxes against Bucky. A minute later, he feels Bucky relax against him.

 

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"Steve, wait!" Matt grabs Steve's arm, pulling him back and feeling the tension in the muscles beneath his hand. He knows he couldn't have stopped the man without his permission, not even on a good day. "Listen."

"I can't hear --"

"I can," Matt says quietly and to his relief, Steve stills next to him. They are a block away, hopefully far enough that Bucky's enhanced senses won't be able to pick up Steve's heartbeat or voice. "Peter just faked another asthma attack."

"He what?" Steve's heart is pounding so fast and his breathing is so labored from stress that Matt thinks if the man weren't a super soldier, *he* might be the one having the attack. "Why? How --?"

Matt tilts his head, listening as Peter and Bucky keep breathing, their hearts beating almost in unison. "You're not the only one who was a sick child, Steve. As for the why, he's manipulating your friend so that your friend doesn't kill him." His lips curve upwards into a smile as he gives in to the temptation to break the tension. "Tell me, Steve, were you a whiner?"

"What?"

"Bucky crumbles whenever Peter whines at him. It's actually kind of adorable."

"I...no."

"You're lying."

"Once or twice," Steve admits with a shrug and Matt can tell he's blushing. "Buck could be a little overbearing with the protectiveness sometimes." There's a deep breath and Steve becomes Captain America again. "What else do you hear?"

"Nothing but the rain, sir. " Matt murmurs and he finally notices that Steve isn't wearing a comm link. Damn sand. It's still throwing him off.

"What?"

"Battlestar Galactica." 

"Oh. Cultural reference," Steve dismisses it. "Matt, I need to know what's going on."

"I know you do. That's why I'm going back in there," Matt tells him. "If Clint's feeling up to it, send him, too. He and Bucky bonded earlier over trying to corrupt a minor."

There's a soft sound of laughter. "I heard. Thanks, Matt."

Matt's sighs heavily. "For what? Getting my ass kicked by a guy made out of sand? I was supposed to be protecting Peter, not the other way around."

"Save the guilt for Confession, Daredevil," Steve lectures in full-on Captain America mode, "and focus on the mission. If you want to go after Sandman and Electro, Tony has weapons you can use but I'd rather you use your talents to keep Peter alive and keep us informed."

"Is that an order?"

"Do you need it to be?"

Matt smiles. "Just this once. Foggy'll get a kick out of it when I tell him about it later. Of course, if you gave Foggy an order, I think he might have what the kids today call a fangasm."

"Well now," Steve says and there's a smile in his voice. "I believe I just might have orders for Mr. Nelson concerning Bucky's well-being."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

"Brock --rrrrrggghhhhhhh!"

"That's 'Commander Rumlow' to you," Rumlow informs Osborn as he presses his boot down on Osborn's neck and brandishes the shock baton that just felled the other man. "HYDRA doesn't tolerate failure, Norman, and you're the reason this morning's operation went south."

Osborn's skin starts to take on a greenish hue and Rumlow shocks him again, using the same voltage that he's used in the past to discipline the Winter Soldier. Maybe Oz and Zola's formula aren't so different after all, he thinks as he shocks Osborn again.

He prods Osborn with the baton so that he's sure he has the man's attention. "I know what you're thinking but you're wrong. You screwed up and word came down from up high that I need to step in as your handler now. I say jump and it's not even a question of how high because -- and trust me on this, Norman -- you do not want to find out how creative I can be with punishing disobedient assets like yourself."

"You'll -- aaaarrrrrgggghhhhh!!!"

"Shut up and listen, Norman." Rumlow steps a little harder on Osborn's neck. "You had a mission to recover the Asset for me and you got distracted when you saw the Asset's little pet." Osborn starts to open his mouth but shuts it fast when Rumlow waves the baton in front of his face. "Your problem is that you think the Asset is like you or the boy, all strength and no substance. That's where you went wrong. The Asset's been successfully carrying out mission after mission for over seven decades. He's precise and he's unstoppable when we give him his orders. Unstoppable, Norman. Gunshots, knife wounds, concussions -- shit that would bring you or me to our knees. Doesn't faze him. So yeah, he's off the reservation, thinks his mission is protecting the spider kid instead of bringing him to his masters, but you see, Norman, the Asset thinks it's his *mission*. And the Asset...Does. Not. Fail. Ever." Fuck it, Rumlow thinks and shocks Osborn again. "So, smart guy, can you explain to the class why shit happened the way it did?"

Osborn groans. "Electro and Sandman --"

"Were supposed to knock the Asset off guard. Your job was to take him down and bring him home." He lifts his boot from Osborn's neck and kicks Osborn's shoulder, flipping him onto his back. "Three supposed super soldiers *with special abilities* against one. Shouldn't even have been a contest. So now here's how it's gonna go. Octavius is getting his whiny ass off the bench and you're gonna tell him because I'm not in the mood to hear him. All four of you assholes are going to take orders from me and from Toomes. We're leading this team and we're going to retrieve the Asset, like I planned and then, like I planned we send him after the kid. Any questions?"

"When do we get to work?"

Much better, Rumlow thinks. He should have used the damn baton sooner.

 

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Murdock is waiting on the third floor of a warehouse on 47th Street and 10th Avenue with the kid and Barnes when Clint finds them. As always, Murdock's hearing never ceases to amaze Clint because when he spoke the location out loud without the benefit of a comm link, he couldn't be sure if the rendez-vous would actually happen. Since Clint's unaided hearing is for shit these days, he's more than a little jealous.

"Hope your renter's insurance was paid up," Clint says by way of greeting and dropping the small sports bag that he's carrying. He nods at Barnes and the kid and hopes like hell the kid doesn't hug him again. 

"Actually," Murdock tells him with a smug little grin, "you're paying. By 'you' mean the Avengers. Foggy made sure my agreement to join the team covered personal injuries and property damage. You know, Clint, now that you're not SHIELD, maybe you should hire Foggy to negotiate an agreement for you."

Agreement? Clint shakes his head and decides it's something he can raise with Steve when he doesn't have a bunch of genetically souped up lunatics running around. "Speaking of Foggy, he and Pepper are taking care of your place. Pepper's handling the cops and she's got a cleanup crew coming later."

"Foggy knows?"

"Murdock, everybody knows. It's kinda hard to conceal explosions and Avengers showing up in Hell's Kitchen. Pepper's doing her best to keep it quiet and she'll make sure all the social media stuff gets removed, but Foggy was gonna find out one way or another." Clint grins at him. "I guess your boyfriend is gonna be pissed about you being in that much mortal peril, huh?"

"We've been over that --"

"And I'm still not convinced you two are just friends," Clint teases him.

"Liar."

"Spoilsport." He flips off Murdock and strolls over to where the kid is examining Barnes' metal arm. "How're you holding up, Barnes?"

"Operational," Barnes responds mechanically.

The kid's mask is off and the look that he shoots Clint is reproachful. "He got zapped with God knows how many volts of electricity and attacked by the Sandman. How do you think he is?"

"I don't know, Stevie," Clint says tartly. "That's why I asked."

Peter sighs and the fight drains out of him. "Sorry, Clint. He's banged up, burned and he's got a bunch of cuts and bruises. And this..." His fingers trail gently over the plates of Barnes' arm. "Somebody thought about desert warfare when they designed this because there's not a speck of sand lodged in it anywhere. Still, with all the voltage he took, I'm not sure if any of the servos are fried."

Barnes lifts the arm from Peter's hands. "You can order me to run a field diagnostic. I can't do it unless my handler gives me the instruction."

"I'm not ordering you to do anything," the kid protests.

"You ordered me to stand down," Barnes reminds him.

"That was different." 

Between the look Barnes gives the kid and the way he's making conversation Clint wonders if taking a few volts actually did the guy some good because he seems a little more with it.

"I have an idea," Murdock says. "How about we don't make Stevie do anything he's uncomfortable with, like ordering Bucky around and drinking alcohol?" His head tilts in Barnes' direction. "The same goes for doing something Bucky's uncomfortable with, isn't that right, Bucky?"

Oh crap. Clint doesn't need a neon sign to tell him that Murdock's figured out that as much as Barnes says he's okay with the kid giving him an order, he's not telling the truth. Time to change the subject. "So hey, the reason I'm late is I stopped to pick up a present for you, Barnes."

Barnes focuses his attention on the object Clint pulls out of the sports bag. "Is that --?"

"Sonic disruptor. SHIELD used a prototype the last time the Sandman got pissy, isn't that right, Stevie?"

Just like Clint figured, the kid hops up to inspect the piece of tech. "Agent Carter's team had them but this one...oh. Tony."

"Yeah. Tony." He hands the weapon to Peter. "The guy's got everything."

The kid examines it from every angle before handing it over to Barnes who performs his own inspection.

Clint clears his throat to ask the question everyone's been avoiding. "So Barnes, how'd they find you?"

"There's a tracking chip in the arm," Barnes says, still fiddling with the disruptor. He levels a look at Peter. "All that voltage might have fried it but we won't know unless someone orders me to do the diagnostic."

"That's a risk we're going have to take," the kid counters firmly. "You told me yourself that you don't know all the triggers you've been programmed with. It wouldn't be right to let you come this far and accidentally turn you back into...into..."

"He's right, Bucky," Murdock says firmly. 

Clint eyeballs him. He may not be able to hear heartbeats or breathing or whatever, but he can read people and Murdock isn't as calm he wants everyone to think. The guy is on a slow burn, which is fine with Clint as long as HYDRA and Osborn are on the receiving end. He tosses the sports bag to Murdock, who catches it easily. That trick never gets old. "Brought your spare suit."

"If you want privacy to change," Barnes tells him, "turn thirty-eight degrees to your right and proceed six yards. Otherwise, we've all seen worse." He ruffles Peter's hair. "Like the time I saw Stevie here skinny dipping --"

"How about we keep that story to ourselves, pal?" Peter suggests, and good God, the kid is blushing at a story that's not even about him. "Um, in fact, maybe we should talk about that HYDRA base and how we're going to take it out."

"Stevie," Barnes says, rising to his feet. "I thought you'd never ask."

 

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As a native New Yorker, Matt is acutely aware of the damage to lower Manhattan from Hurricane Sandy in 2012. Many of the buildings are still vacant, while their owners wrestle with insurers. The HYDRA facility is located just north of Fulton Street, one block below the Brooklyn Bridge on Dover Street. A decade before, the area had been home to the Fulton Fish Market and on a very humid New York summer afternoon, Matt could smell the fish all the way across town in Hell's Kitchen. The fish market is now in the Bronx, upwind for the most part and Matt doesn't miss the stench of spoiling fish on a summer's afternoon at all. 

It's nearly seven in the morning on a Saturday, which means traffic is light. Almost none of the Wall Street crowd comes to work on the weekend and while the area these days is more residential than financial, this section is mostly old -- and now vacant thanks to Sandy --warehouses. The tourists that visit lower Manhattan tend to gravitate west, where the new World Trade Center is.

Even so, Matt isn't particularly comfortable being out of Hell's Kitchen and out and about in daylight. His type of justice is best dispensed in the dark. Then again, he's never dispensed justice on anything remotely like HYDRA or these enhanced humans. His companions on the other hand seem comfortable with both as they discuss strategy atop a six story building on Front Street, just two blocks from their target.

"They're in there," Matt says quietly. "All five of 'em along with thirty regular people."

Bucky stands beside him and if it weren't for his slow, steady heartbeat, Matt wouldn't have heard him coming. The Winter Soldier is damned impressive that way. "C'mere, Petey. I've got a special job for you."

Peter's heart speeds up and so does Matt's but for a different reason. Bucky just called the boy 'Petey'.

"Take these." Matt isn't sure what 'these' are. He can tell they fit neatly in Bucky's hands and smell of metal with a hint of oil.

"No!"

"Take 'em," Bucky growls. "Now, what you're gonna do is swing over the building, pull the pins, drop 'em and swing your scrawny ass back here as fast as you can."

Ah. Grenades.

"Um... Bucky, I don't really do weapons and stuff like --"

"Petey, we can discuss your technique later --"

"These things *kill* people!"

Matt, may God forgive him, isn't certain he has a problem with that today. "Spider-man --"

"No way! No killing!" Peter is adamant and he's getting more than a little emotional. "Clint? Avengers don't kill people, right?"

Clint takes the deep, troubled breath of a man about to tell his children that Santa Claus doesn't exist. "Not in cold blood, no."

"The southwest corner of the building is empty," Matt says, tilting his head and double checking. "It's a parking garage. Bucky, how much of the structure would a grenade take out if he drops it there?"

"That corner is under the FDR Drive!" Peter explodes. "I'm not endangering innocent people."

"You won't," Bucky says firmly. "Those are AN-M14s. Not enough blast radius to reach the FDR Drive but you'll take out all the vehicles in the garage."

"And there's nobody in the garage," Clint adds.

"Now. But in the seconds it takes for me to get over there? Ugh. I-I think I'm gonna be sick."

Clint sighs. "How about this, kid? You swing over and throw a few flash bangs through their windows. They might hurt but they won't kill. Here. We can take 'em off my arrows." Matt hears Clint pull arrows from his quiver. "That work for you, Bucky?"

"Not optimal but still within mission parameters," Bucky agrees.

"I swear," Peter says, voice shaking. "I will web the bunch of you together and leave you behind up here right now unless you promise me that we are not killing anybody." 

Bucky's voice is flat and emotionless. "They won't have a problem killing Matt or Clint either now or after they've experimented on them."

"And that's what makes them a bunch of evil guys!"

"I'm an assassin, Petey."

"They made you one," Peter argues. "What you do now is your choice."

Just like the rest of them, Matt thinks.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "JARVIS, can you do something about Peter's transmissions?"
> 
> "I can transmit them on a time delay and omit any self-directed commentary," the AI offers.
> 
> "Please, for the love of God, do it," comes Tony's voice. "There's nothing worse than listening to somebody hurl."

Chapter 11

 

"Grenades yet," Peter mutters to himself as he swings off the roof and away from his teammates. "It's like being stuck in a bad game of Call of Duty."

Theoretically, he knows what flash bangs are because...hello, television. Give him time and he could research how they're made and explain in detail how and why they work. Grenades are not something he's ever had the desire to see in person, let alone be responsible for using, no matter how supposedly non-lethal these are. Throwing grenades at people is not why he put on the mask and Peter can't help the feeling that his Uncle Ben would be very disappointed in him for doing it, even if he is working with a bunch of superheroes and one guy who may or may not still be a brainwashed assassin.

He's so caught up in that train of thought and with throwing the flash bangs through the windows of HYDRA's base that he almost doesn't notice his spider-sense tingling. Even so, he's mid-swing and the momentum is carrying him forward at a fast clip. There's not much that he can do as the Vulture's wing slices through his web-line and sends him plummeting towards the East River. Oh crap! He hates the East River. That water is absolutely *disgusting* and the last time he fell in it, he smelled for *days* afterwards.

Peter frantically shoots a web at the Vulture who has no qualms whatsoever about throwing grenades in Peter's direction -- and no, they are *not* 'harmless' little flash bang ones. The web snags the Vulture's ankle and Peter twists out of the way, just in time for the grenade to blow a chunk out of South Street, send water gushing upwards from a broken water main and set off an ungodly number of car alarms. He's hanging on for dear life, looking frantically for a place to fire a web but the Vulture is keeping him over the East River and well away from any buildings. Unless he's willing to go for a swim, Peter is a sitting duck for an attack by Osborn because, unfortunately, the damned Green Goblin can fly.

They're halfway between Manhattan and Brooklyn and the Vulture is taking him upwards with those damned wings. Decision time, Spidey.

He lets go and plummets.

And then he slams into something that stops his descent.

"You're not dressed for swimming," Sam tells him and holy geez, he's got the coolest shiny red and silver wings Peter has ever seen.

"Oh, thank God," Peter takes a second to sag with relief. "Can you put me down over...hey! Where'd they go?"

Sam laughs. "You thought those guys were gonna wait for you? Whoops. Company's coming."

"Look out!" Peter's spider-sense tingles just as the Vulture lobs a grenade in their direction. Sam banks hard to the left and the grenade explodes harmlessly over the water.

"I got him," Sam assures Peter. "If we go under the bridge, can you take it from there?"

Peter barely has time to say yes and then they're under the Brooklyn Bridge, where he fires off a web, leaving Sam to circle back towards the Vulture. He wants to stay, to make sure Sam's okay, because really, he's just a guy with a wing pack and --

Holy crap, Sam is shooting at the Vulture.

With a gun! A really, really big gun.

"What is *with* everybody and the ultra violence?" Peter complains aloud to himself as he swings his way towards the HYDRA base. "What happened to talking out your differences? I'm sure Normie and I could hash out our problems over some Starbucks. He could have a Venti espresso with a double shot of Thorazine and -- YOW!"

Just as he's about to land on the roof of the HYDRA base, there is a loud explosion from inside that shatters the remaining windows. Bursts of gunfire follow.

"Yeesh. If Aunt May finds out I went in there, I'm gonna be grounded forever."

 

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Matt is struggling. The weapons they're using to disorient their enemies are disorienting him. Between the smoke, the ringing in his ears from the explosions -- damn Barnes' obsession with grenades -- and the seemingly ceaseless gunfire coming from all angles, he's having trouble 'seeing'. He knows what Stick would have to say about that.

Get it together, he tells himself.

And he does, just in time to realize he's face to face with half a dozen men that are armed to the teeth.

"I want him alive," barks their leader. Matt immediately pegs him as a cocky bastard who's carrying two guns, four knives and a baton that has the faint smell of ozone about it. "Other than that, use your discretion."

The six men are good little operatives so they eschew their weapons in favor of fighting him hand to hand.

His kind of fight.

Matt's mouth curves into a feral smile as the first blows rain down on him and he gives back as good as he's getting. He feels his flesh tear open beneath a fist and he smells the sweet coppery scent of his blood and his opponent's when he returns the favor.

These animals want to hurt Peter. To experiment on him. To *use* him. 

As they've done with Bucky for Christ only knows how many years.

The thought of it makes the Devil in him snarl and rattle the bars of his cage, demanding to be let out.

Matt lets the calm, dead feeling wash over him.

And he lets the Devil out.

 

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Murdock is an idiot.

Not that this is news to Clint. The math is simple. Blind guy plus getting in over his head equals idiot. Case in point: Murdock is going hand-to-hand with Rumlow and his squad of ex-STRIKE team members. Not that he's getting his ass kicked, exactly.

Jesus, the guy can take a punch.

And damn, can he give one.

Still seven against one, especially when those seven have stun batons, is bullshit and it offends Clint's sense of fair play. He knows Murdock will bitch and moan about ableism and whatnot but Clint gives zero fucks as he nocks an arrow and sends it tearing through the calf of the guy Murdock's tangling with. Murdock doesn't miss a beat as he moves on to the next asshole.

As for Clint, he's goddamn handcuffed playing by the kid's stupid rules about non-lethal force. "Cap? You there?"

Steve's voice comes across loud and clear in his ear and Clint vows to kiss Stark on the lips when he sees him later. "Status, Hawkeye?"

"Shitty. Whose show is this?"

"Pardon?" There's gunfire and the clang of Steve's shield in the background.

"The kid wasn't happy about putting down enemy combatants."

"Belay that, Hawkeye."

"Gladly." It's probably not fair, letting Steve take the heat from the kid for what Clint's about to do but hey, 'we were just following orders' worked for the goose-stepping ideological grandparents of the assholes below. Still, Steve's the guy in charge and the word has been given. Clint sends an arrow through the right eye of the guy next to Rumlow.

The guy drops like a marionette whose strings have been cut.

Clint isn't gonna lose a wink of sleep over it.

 

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Steve doesn't see Bucky anywhere in this melee but he sees Bucky's handiwork. Bucky's. Not the Winter Soldier. Every downed HYDRA operative that Steve comes across is still breathing and most of them, just barely. In Steve's opinion, leaving them alive isn't necessarily a kindness. Still, the Winter Soldier would have killed every single one of them, just like he did at the other HYDRA bases he raided. It's a sign that Bucky is trying to fight his way back to who he was.

He hears Peter talking to himself over the comm link when he finds some of the maimed men and women, followed by the uncomfortably loud sound of the boy vomiting. It's nothing new to Steve, young soldiers losing it their first time in combat, but Peter isn't a soldier. He's a fifteen year old boy and, not for the first time, Steve thinks that Peter is in over his head. Either way, Peter doesn't realize that his suit is transmitting and because there's no receiver, Steve has no way to tell him to be quiet and that his reactions are distracting. "JARVIS, can you do something about Peter's transmissions?"

"I can transmit them on a time delay and omit any self-directed commentary," the AI offers.

"Please, for the love of God, do it," comes Tony's voice. "There's nothing worse than listening to somebody hurl."

"At least he's not crying," Clint puts in.

Sam makes a disapproving noise but whatever he says gets lost when Steve is hit from behind by something huge and solid. There's loud, mocking laughter and then sand. Everywhere.

The vibranium shield isn't much good against a human sandstorm but thanks to Tony, they're all armed with sonic disruptors. Steve pulls the weapon from the holster strapped to his thigh and raises it, only to have to duck and roll when the storm suddenly becomes a solid giant fist that swings in his direction.

How did Peter fight this guy by himself in that flimsy spandex costume?

How did Peter *beat* this guy by himself and without any kind of weapon?

Lying on his side, Steve fires the disruptor into the sandstorm, blasting a large hole through its center and is relieved when the sandstorm abruptly stops. He has no idea how much sand it takes to make up a not-quite-human-anymore body but it seems to be a hell of a lot. And it's everywhere. Sand is all over the parking garage and Steve even has sand in his suit. And his boots. The damn stuff itches.

Steve gets to his feet, shaking his head. One down. Three to go, thanks to Sam and Stark who took down Toomes. He coughs and spits out sand. "I used to like going to Coney Island."

"We rode the Cyclone and you threw up," Bucky says, inflection flat and emotionless.

Steve is so surprised to see him that he nearly misses the M4 that Bucky is pointing at him.

"Hello, Stevie."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We've just given you a taste of Oz, Captain." Osborn takes a step towards Steve. "We'll find out if the primitive concoction Erskine designed can overcome it or if you'll mutate further. Or maybe you'll just do everyone a favor and die in agony as you deserve for trying to steal my boy!"

Chapter 12

 

 

"'Scuse me fellas, hope you don't mind if I play through," Peter calls out as he fires a web line over the barrel of the cannon that Bucky has pointed at Steve's head. "Doesn't it just suck when you get stuck in the sand trap? I mean, we could be here all day --- yow!"

His really awesome Sandman pun is rudely interrupted when Bucky yanks the web hard enough to pull Peter down from the ceiling.

Peter lands hard, scrabbling for purchase on the sand-covered parking garage floor and tugs with all his strength to disarm Bucky. "C'mon, Bucky, you know what mom said about playing with guns in the house --"

"Peter, stop," Steve barks at him. "I have this --"

"Parker," Bucky growls, eyes locking intently on Peter as he lets go of the gun.

The knife is flying before Peter can figure out where it came from and he barely manages to dodge it thanks to his spider sense. "Playing with knives is *not* an improvement, Bucky Bear." He twists around and webs Bucky's boots together, sending the assassin crashing to his knees. "Play nice with your old pal Stevie. Uh, whichever one of us that might be."

Steve grabs Peter by the arm and shoves him towards the stairs. "Time for you to go, son. I've got this."

His spider sense gives Peter just enough warning to tackle Steve to the floor as Bucky pulls out yet another gun and fires a barrage of bullets at them. "And they say video games made *my* generation violent!"

"Peter! Steve raises his shield, deflecting the bullets. "Get out of here."

"Not a good idea. This is a nice, safe enclosed space. If I go, he's gonna come after me and that puts innocent people in danger." Peter reaches around the shield and shoots a web at the machine gun thing. Bucky dodges it without letting up his assault. The hail of bullets make a sound like nothing Peter has ever heard before as they bounce off the vibration-absorbing vibranium shield. Oh, the physics experiments he'd love to do with that baby.

Steve makes a sound of pure frustration. "Those 'innocents' are HYDRA agents."

"Yeah? And what about the people in the street who might get hit with stray bullets, smart guy?" Oh God! He just mouthed off at Captain America! Well, in for a penny... "There are overpriced condos on three sides and the FDR Drive right over us."

"We're going to have a very long talk when this is over."

"This is the thanks I get for saving your life? Sheesh!"

"Saving---? He wasn't going to shoot!"

"And you know that how? He had a friggin' *cannon* pointed at your head!"

"And you did a great job of escalating that situation, didn't you?"

"But...I was trying to help." Peter is crestfallen. He screwed up. Worse, he screwed up in front of Captain America and now Captain America is pissed off at him. He's probably going to get kicked out of the Avengers, not that it would be a big loss what with the killing people and all. Uncle Ben would say good riddance. Uncle Ben would... Uncle Ben would have tried to avoid violence altogether. Peter tugs off his mask and wheezes loudly enough to be heard over the gunfire.

Steve's eyes go wide and then narrow. His jaw clenches. "Dammit, Peter!"

Bucky ceases fire. "Stevie?"

He wheezes again and clutches at his chest. Uncle Ben didn't care much for fibs and he always knew when Peter faked an attack. Well, he did after the first few times. Peter is sure Bucky will catch on sooner or later but for now, Peter gives an Oscar-worthy performance of gasps, wheezes and he throws in a few whimpers for good measure.

Bucky points the gun at Steve and snarls, "Get the hell away from him."

Steve lowers his shield and backs away slowly. 

Peter's too busy watching Bucky and fake-gasping for air to see how furious Steve is now but he's sure it's plenty. Once Steve is clear, Bucky squats and grabs Peter firmly, pulling him back against his chest.

"Easy, Stevie. Not gonna let anyone hurt you." Bucky has his right arm wrapped around Peter but his metal arm is raised and the hand is keeping the gun steadily trained on Steve. "Just relax an' breathe."

Relaxing is not happening. Not when he's sitting on top of Sandman bits and Bucky is pointing a whatever that thing is at Steve. "That's a really big gun, Bucky."

"M240E5," Bucky replies, like it's no big deal.

"It's awfully scary, don't you think? And that guy over there is unarmed." Please work. Please please please. "Kinda makes you a bully, doesn't it, aiming an M&M two whatever at him, doesn't it? You know how I feel about bullies, Bucky. It's so not cool a-and you're the coolest guy I know. I'm really disappointed in you, pal."

"Threat level --"

"No! No threat level!" Peter's not stupid. He knows Bucky is stressed, no matter how well he's hiding it. How could he not be, what with all the stimuli warring with his programming and his attempts to overcome it? Ordering him to stand down might have the opposite effect and send Bucky into a rampage. God, he is so going to take that AP Intro to Psych class next semester. If he survives the next five minutes, that is. "There's no threat. That guy over there is disarmed. He can't hurt me anymore, not with you watching my, um, six." He raises his head and looks at Steve, who appears to be -- and Peter is proud of his use of the PSAT word -- nonplussed. "Um, buddy, if you wouldn't mind, maybe you want to convince Bucky here that you're not a threat. Like, uh --"

"Get down," Bucky orders Steve. "On your knees and hands behind your head."

Steve sets his shield down and obeys.

"See? So not a threat. The opposite of a threat, even. Like...like a fluffy bunny." Peter twists around and makes puppy dog eyes at Bucky. "Can you put the gun down now? Please? Pretty please?"

"Stevie..."

"Pleeeeeaaaaaase?" Whining. If any of the Avengers ever speak to him again, he will forever be known as the big time superhero who disarms people by faking asthma attacks and whining. He hopes nobody knows he threw up before because that would just be the cherry on the top of his spectacular new reputation as a whiny superhero loser. Then again, it beats being the guy who shoots arrows through people's eyes. He's never going to look at Clint the same way again. "Buuuuuucccckkkky?"

"Jesus, Stevie. Stop being such a whiny pain in the ass," Bucky grumbles, lowering the gun.

Peter takes it carefully from Bucky's hand and bends the weapon so that it's useless. "Gee, that was careless of me. Guess they don't make big noisy guns like they used to, huh?"

"Damn it, Rogers!"

Yeah, Peter thinks, Uncle Ben would be proud.

 

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"You didn't have to kill them."

"You're welcome, Daredevil."

Matt's ribs are creaking, his head is pounding and he knows he'll feel the blows to his kidneys for days. Those things are minor compared to knowing that the six men he was fighting with will never draw another breath. That knowledge makes his soul ache. "We agreed this was supposed to be a no kill operation --"

"I never agreed to that," Clint cuts him off.

"But you made sure you had Steve's blessing first, didn't you?" This is why he prefers to work alone. He's arguing with his so-called teammate in the middle of all this chaos about something that shouldn't even be a question. "Damn you, Barton."

"What're you crying about? You've racked up a body count all by your lonesome, too, Mr. Vigilante."

"Not at my hands." Oh, but he's come close, hasn't he, throwing people off of roofs and out of windows? The six dead men at his feet weren't killed by his hands either and he knows that Stick would agree with Clint. But Matt is not Stick and this is the lesson he adamantly refused to learn. 

"Collateral damage is the same thing," Clint snaps.

Matt opens his mouth to disagree when he smells the ozone in the air.

It's what saves the pair of them from being fried where they stand.

He body slams Clint out of the way and God, does that do things to his aching ribs. The bolt of electricity misses them by inches.

"Jesus," Clint murmurs, shifting out from underneath Matt and pulling out an arrow. "Look at this guy."

Matt can the smell ozone in the air long before an electrical storm comes and lightning does brief and interesting things to his world on fire. Electro is ozone, endless amounts of it, and flashes of sensory overload all at once. He's never been able to sense electrical currents but he thinks he can with Electro. They ebb and flow like the tide he remembers seeing as a child when his father took him to Brighton Beach that one time.

Ozone flares and Matt shoves Clint out of the way again. The arrow flies true anyway but Matt can smell it burn before it can strike Electro.

They keep dodging and there aren't any hiding places along this narrow corridor that Electro can't blast to bits. Clint drags him into an open space that Matt immediately catalogs as two hundred square feet. There are tables that are made of metal and he smells chemicals, computers, printers...all this adds up to the space being used as some kind of lab.

Electrical fires can happen in labs.

"Fire extinguisher," Matt yells to Clint as they split up. He knows there should be one around somewhere but he can't find it. What he does find as he continues to dodge bursts of electricity are the water pipes.

Brighton Beach. The tide. Water. Water and electricity don't mix. He remembers Peter laughing about it, telling Matt that he used 'second grade science' to stop Electro. Matt realizes now that Peter's joking didn't make him appreciate just how dangerous Electro really is. He chalks that up to the ridiculous name and he'd laugh too but he's trying to stop a man who is living, breathing electricity. And he is chagrined to learn that he's less capable of doing that than his fifteen year old friend because he also forgot about second grade science.

He can hear the water flowing through the pipes behind them. 

"Clint, do you have some kind of explosive arrow?"

Clint snorts.

Okay. Dumb question. "Blow the water pipe behind me. It's to my four o'clock --"

"You mean the one that says 'water, not potable'?"

"...yes."

"Kidding. Doesn't say that." There's the unmistakable sound of an arrow being nocked but this one flies towards Electro. There's a burst of heat, meaning it was a flare or some other kind of distraction that Clint is using to give himself the opening to blow the water pipe.

There are two explosions. The first is the water pipe blowing and the second is the one that happens when the water and Electro meet. 

"Holy shit," Clint is saying but it sounds like it's coming from far away. "The guy's butt-naked. I figured maybe he had some kind of special suit or whatever. Ugh. I don't want to think where he was shooting those bolts of electricity from... Are you okay?"

He's not. His world on fire is more like a world of smoldering embers. He can smell, he can feel but his hearing... Matt doesn't like to admit weakness, doesn't want to need help but he wraps his fingers around Clint's bicep anyway to steady himself. He's so disoriented that he can't even speak.

Clint pats Matt's hand reassuringly and begins leading him. "C'mon. Let's go see if we can find where Rumlow ran off to after you almost kicked his face in."

Matt doesn't recognize the name and manages to make a small questioning sound.

"Brock Rumlow. King of the douchebags. Worked alongside Steve for months, then tried to kill him. We also found out that he was one of Barnes' handlers," Clint explains.

Handler. Matt stops walking and considers this piece of information. He has a vague notion of what that means, that there's some type of standard of care that it implies. If Barnes' current state of mind demonstrates the kind of care he's received at this Rumlow's hands, finding the man just rose to the top of Matt's priorities. 

He lets go of Clint's arm and forces himself to concentrate, to put the pain aside. Pain is a distraction. Pain, as Stick used to say, is for pussies.

And the Devil in him hasn't finished his work yet.

 

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"We're okay," Peter is murmuring to Bucky. They're sitting on the ground, arms around each other and Peter's face is buried against Bucky's shoulder as he speaks soothingly.

Steve hasn't moved since being ordered to his knees and even though Bucky isn't looking directly at him, he knows that if he twitches, Bucky will react, despite Peter's manipulations. And it's those manipulations that are making him angry. Bucky's been used and manipulated by so many people and... Are those tears in Peter's eyes?

That's when it hits Steve. Peter cares about Bucky. Deeply. And what Steve took for reckless and foolish behavior was Peter doing his damnedest to make sure nobody got hurt. Including Bucky.

It was still reckless and foolish and they are still going to have that long talk when this is over.

"Jesus," Tony says in Steve's ear. "Is he *crying*? Please tell me that's acting."

Steve can't answer him. He's too busy watching Bucky resting his chin on Peter's head and sighing. 

His emotional reaction to the display of affection between Peter and his best friend is the reason why he doesn't see the volley of fireballs coming his way until the last possible second. He snatches up his shield as the sedan behind him erupts into flames while over to his three o'clock something smashes the concrete walls.

Arms. Long, metal arms.

Peter is already in motion, both bodily and with a non-stop running commentary as he dodges Octavius' arms. Bucky is nowhere to be seen but Steve knows he's going to make his presence felt.

More fireballs come Steve's way and he swats angrily with his shield, advancing on Osborn. Photos and videos didn't prepare him for the real thing. This creature in front of him doesn't resemble anything human and yet its eyes gleam with intelligence and deadly intent.

"I'm going to beat you to the edge of death," Osborn states matter of factly, hovering in the air in front of Steve, a fireball in each hand. "You and the boy. You see, I believe his healing factor is 18 percent faster and more efficient than yours and I'd love to test that hypothesis."

Peter engages in conversations with this lunatic.

Steve, on the other hand, throws his shield. Hard.

The fireballs come flying in his direction.

"Or I could just have the boy kill you," Osborn tells him. 

"Why don't you do it yourself?" Steve snarls. He should know better than engaging in a debate with Osborn but the man reminds him so very much of Schmidt with his obnoxious arrogance that he wants nothing more than to destroy him. 

His visceral reaction to Osborn is the reason he doesn't notice the assault team sneaking up behind him until they've opened fire with... "Darts?" 

"Osborn's invention, Rogers." The voice belongs to Brock Rumlow but the face...it's a mass of scars. "Like it?"

Steve's vision starts to swim. 

"We've just given you a taste of Oz, Captain." Osborn takes a step towards Steve. "We'll find out if the primitive concoction Erskine designed can overcome it or if you'll mutate further. Or maybe you'll just do everyone a favor and die in agony as you deserve for trying to steal my boy!"

The punch comes out of nowhere and rocks Steve back on his heels. He grits his teeth and slams the shield into Osborn, driving him back. He feels feverish in a way he hasn't felt since before the serum, not since he had scarlet fever.

Osborn's next punch sends Steve flying across the garage where he crashes into a steel beam. "He's all yours, Commander."

Steve is coughing and gasping for air as Rumlow approaches. "Rumlow --"

"Call me Crossbones, Captain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AP classes are "Advanced Placement" classes that offer college credits to US high school students.  
> The PSAT is an exam that tests preparedness for the SAT college exam test. It also qualifies students for National Merit Scholarships.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's a short chapter. I know. It's not writer's block that's delayed posting this week but (sigh) life. Thanks to all of you for sticking around, posting kudos and comments. They make life a lot easier to bear. 
> 
> Many thanks!
> 
> MsB

Chapter 13

 

He's never seen Murdock like this.

Clint doesn't even have a chance to finish climbing up to his chosen vantage point before Murdock is across the floor and pounding the hell out of Rumlow. Not that Rumlow doesn't have it coming. Especially for what he's just done to Cap. Between the Oz and the beating that Rumlow was giving him, Cap is in bad shape. He's curled up on the floor in fetal position, shivering and his breathing is ragged.

"Cap's not looking good," Clint announces.

Tony makes an irritated noise. "I'm on crowd control out here. We've got cops, firefighters, FBI and God knows what else but if you need me to come in..."

"It's tight in here."

"I can make it work."

"I can't even make it work," Clint growls in frustration. "Murdock's hogging all the action. Can't get a clear shot at Rumlow."

"You know he just heard that."

Good point, Tony. "Hey, Hornhead, get the hell out of my way and give me a clear shot."

But, like the contrary bastard he is, Murdock doesn't.

"Come on, damn it. I won't take a kill shot."

"Why not?" Tony asks. 

"Because I'm not in the mood for any more of Murdock's lectures on morality." Clint sucks in air as he watches Murdock take a blow that might have made Steve stagger. The mask obscures most of Murdock's face but the guy's posture says it all. He takes a slow step towards Rumlow, hands at his sides like Rumlow going down is a foregone conclusion. No ifs ands or buts. Rumlow's no idiot, either, because he sees it too. He takes a step back but it doesn't matter. Murdock hits him so hard that Clint can hear his jaw break. "Jesus."

"What?"

"Ever see Murdock in action?"

"On video."

"Ever see him really, really pissed off?"

"Isn't he always?"

"You wouldn't be asking if you had eyes on him now."

"Well, keep your eyes on Steve in case we need to get him out of there fast."

There's a loud shrieking crash of metal on metal and a small flash of black off to Clint's right. A car goes flying through the air and -- "Holy shit!"

"What?"

"That Octopus guy just threw a car at the kid and the kid *caught* it and threw it *back*! Did we know he was that strong?" Clint decides not to mention the how Octopus guy just swatted the damn car aside and tore it apart with his tentacles just to make a point.

"He caught a car? Was it a Fiesta or something?" Tony asks.

"Town Car."

Tony sighs dramatically. "How many times did I tell him not to hold back during all those tests I ran? How many times did he lie and tell me he wasn't? How inaccurate is all my data? Ugh! Kids today."

Clint doesn't respond. He's too busy picking off as many of Rumlow's team as he can. Four down and those idiots still can't figure out where the arrows are coming from in all this chaos. He has to admit, he chose his hiding spot well. This little corner beam has a great vantage point and it's concealed behind a huge light fixture, which means he has cover too.

At least he does until the light fixture explodes.

When his vision clears, Osborn is hovering in front of him, fangs bared and fireballs in hand. 

"Aw, shit."

 

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Steve is burning up and he's wheezing. Ironically, his real wheezing that sounds a lot like Peter's fake wheezing. Matt forces himself to ignore the heat, the wheezes and the shivering because as much as he wants to help Steve, the biggest help is going to be putting this Rumlow character down. Hard.

The problem is, Rumlow isn't going down easy. He fights dirty and he fights mean but he's no Nobu and he's no Stick either. Then again, Stick would probably have kicked Rumlow's ass seven ways to Sunday by now. Or maybe not. Rumlow is that good. He's also human, thank God, and Matt's giving him a beating that would have made his father proud.

Matt can hear Rumlow's ribs creaking and the unsteady ragged breathing coming from Rumlow's broken nose, along with the satisfying scaping of the bones of Rumlow's broken jaw. It's time to send Rumlow down to the mat. 

The distinctive, crisp smell of vibranium to his right brings a smile to Matt's face. He couldn't have chosen a more fitting way to end the fight. Matt's witnessed Steve's technique with the shield in practice, the way he can kick it and send it spinning upwards and then catch it. He's never tried it himself. Until now. His foot makes contact and the shield flips upwards, its trajectory made difficult to trace because of the way vibranium aborbs sound. Matt's gloved fingers close over it and he marvels at how well the shield is balanced as he slams it into Rumlow's face.

The balance is nothing compared to the unusual sound of vibranium meeting bone. 

Damn, but he's in love with this shield, especially when Rumlow topples like a rotten oak tree.

"Looks good on you," Steve croaks hoarsely from behind him.

Matt spits out a mouthful of blood. "I can't wait to try Thor's hammer next."

 

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"Do yourself a favor, Parker," Doc Ock is ranting, "You can't win. Lie down and give up before we damage you."

"If I do, will you tell me a story?" Peter dodges one tentacle, only to be clipped across the jaw by another. He sees stars but manages to grab the metal arm and pull with all his might. Ock crashes to the sand covered floor, arms pinwheeling.

"Oh, we have a story for you, Parker. It involves a special chair," Ock sneers. He's kneeling but one of his arms wraps tightly around Peter's leg, lifting him and holding him upside down. "Norman isn't a fan of programming you, but we daresay he'll come 'round when you're the nice, obedient boy he wants you to be."

Peter wants to respond but he's too busy being thrown across the garage. The most he can say as he sails over Matt's head is, "Yeeeeeooooooowwwww!"

He crashes hard into a steel support beam, bounces off and lands on top of a Range Rover. Hard. The roof of the SUV flattens from the impact and safety glass shatters. With a groan, Peter pulls himself upright. Being thrown around by Ock doesn't freak him out nearly as much as Ock referring to himself and those wacky arms of his as 'we'.

"You've had this spanking coming for a while, brat." Ock is using two of his metal arms to loom over Peter while the other two come after him like piledrivers. "I'm tired of you. Tired of your constant mewling for attention while you get in our way. That's all this is, you know. You, craving daddy's approval, but daddy's not around is he, Parker? So you run around in your little tights and what? Hope Captain America will give you the time of day? You pathetic, immature little glory hound! Captain America is about to join your uninspired scientist father in the afterlife --"

"You know, Otto," Peter says, grabbing onto a metal arm and pulling. "You've got the super-villain rant down. Have you and Norman been practicing? You're no Magneto or anything, but I'll give you a solid seven."

With that, Peter yanks hard and sends Ock flying. Metal arms flail but they don't stop Ock from crashing into a van, knocking the fight out of him. Peter launches himself upwards, bouncing off of four other vehicles to finish Ock off.

A tentacle snares Peter around the neck, catching him in mid-air. 

Ock screams in agony and lets go of Peter. There's a knife jutting out of his right shoulder.

"Sloppy, Petey," Bucky remarks, coming up beside Peter and casually flicking another knife into Ock's left shoulder without even looking where he's throwing it. "What'd I tell you about the high ground?"

"Um, dude, the knives --"

"Higher ground is an advantage against a superior force." Another knife goes flying. Ock shrieks as it pierces his left forearm. "Not that this clown is in any way superior. Think you can finish him off now, kid?"

"I could have finished him off myself," Peter grumbles.

Bucky snorts and yet one more knife goes flying, imbedding itself in Ock's right forearm.

"I've done it before, you know. And without your help." He grabs Bucky's wrist before he can throw another knife. "Cut it out with the knives already, Stabby McStabbins!"

"Then quit standin' here flappin' your mouth."

"I happen to be a pro when it comes to flapping my mouth and beating the snot out of Otto," Peter informs him primly, launching himself upwards. He somersaults through the air and just as he delivers a blow to Ock's jaw, a knife lands in Ock's thigh. "Hey! Watch where you're throwing those things!"

"So help me, if you start whining again --" 

Whatever Bucky was going to say is lost in a barrage of fireballs as Osborn flies overhead. Clint's unconscious form is dangling from one hand and Osborn blows a hole in the wall with the other. 

"Let's see if you can catch this one when I throw him off the Brooklyn Bridge," Osborn calls over his shoulder before bursting into creepy maniacal comic book villain laughter.

Peter is about to launch himself after Osborn when Bucky grabs him from behind. "Get off."

"No, punk," Bucky growls. "You're takin' me with you."

Because *that's* going to end well.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Kid, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
> 
> "Getting you out of harm's way."
> 
> The archer growls in frustration. "I'm not some damsel in distress."
> 
> "But you're --"
> 
> "An Avenger," Clint snaps. "Who's been hero-ing a lot longer than you, Mr. Wet Behind the Ears. Now take me back up there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone for their supportive comments when I posted about life issues along with Chapter 13. Those of you who have/had pets know how hard saying goodbye can be. Your kind words meant a great deal. For those who've been leaving kudos and comments, they're all very much appreciated. We're almost at the end of this tale and I'm still having enough fun in the sandbox that a fourth installment is likely to be in the works.

 

 

"Boy, that's a lot o' law enforcement," Peter comments as he fires a web and swings towards the bridge. The words have barely left his mouth when it seems like every branch of law enforcement opens fire. It's one thing to have them shooting at him but he's got Bucky clinging to his back like a great big target. He shoots another web and takes a detour to get them out of harm's way while he hears Tony's amplified voice as he tries to get everyone to cease fire. Like that might happen. "Guess that explains why Iron Man didn't blow Normie out of the sky."

Bucky doesn't say a word, just tightens his grip around Peter as they go up and over the FDR Drive. Traffic is shut down in both directions, thanks to police road blocks by the South Ferry and up north, somewhere around Fourteenth Street.

"Thank goodness it's a weekend. We'd never hear the end of interfering with rush hour from ticked off commuters."

"Quiet," Bucky hisses.

"Look, pal, if you're serious about being my sidekick --"

"Shut it, Petey." Metal fingers dig into Peter's side while an index finger with a bruised knuckle points towards scaffolding under the bridge where crews have been doing repairs. "Set us down there."

"Are you crazy? Osborn's got Clint!" Peter protests. "We have to --"

"Plan. Rushing after Osborn without a strategy isn't smart, is it?"

"It always works for me."

"Not when I'm your CO."

"But I'm not a soldier--"

"You fight with me, you're gonna learn something."

Okay, he's got a point. And more than likely, he's got at least ten plans because, hello, Winter Soldier guy. If Peter thinks too hard about it -- which he's not -- he might think he's actually slowing Bucky down. He maneuvers them onto the scaffolding and winces when he sees blood coming from Bucky's left calf. "Dude, are you shot?"

"Grazed," Bucky tells him, like it's no big deal. "Web it closed, will you?"

"But..." Peter crouches down, inspecting the wound. Super soldier serum is already kicking in and there isn't even any swelling. He webs the wound, looking up carefully at Bucky as he does it. "Doesn't that hurt?"

Bucky shrugs. "Asset."

"What does that even mean?"

"You wanna find out? Keep being reckless and HYDRA'll be happy to show you," Bucky snaps. There's a long, uncomfortable silence during which Peter straightens and stares down at his feet. Metal fingers hover uncertainly and then land on Peter's shoulder so lightly that Peter has to look up to make certain he's being touched. "They conditioned me not to notice pain."

"Th-they what?" It's not that he doesn't understand the science of it. Studies about conditioned behavior have been around since Pavlov made a dog drool but what's been done to Bucky Barnes wasn't a study. It was a perversion of everything Peter believes science is meant to do. His throat gets a little tight and he lays his hand on top of Bucky's metal one, squeezing gently. "Sorry, Bucky."

Something flickers in Bucky's eyes and vanishes as he pulls his hand away, all business again. "What are we doing, Petey?"

"Um...I have no idea."

"Think. What does Osborn want?"

"Me?"

Bucky nods. "What are we making him do?"

"Wait?"

"And?" A dark eyebrow rises expectantly.

The light bulb goes on. "Delayed gratification. We're making him frustrated and careless." Peter blinks as something else occurs to him. "But he's nuts. Like completely nuttier than the nuttiest nut ever. He could lose his temper and kill Clint just to make a point about how much he hates being kept waiting."

Bucky shakes his head. "He won't do that. Why?"

"Um...so I'd have to watch?"

"And why is that important to Osborn?"

"He wants to show me that he's the one with the power." Peter blinks, amazed at the lesson in superhero-ing he's just gotten from a man whose grip on reality is tenuous at best. "Dude, where have you been all my spider-life? Not that the guys haven't been training me, it's just --"

"You have the power," Bucky cuts off his Winter Soldier appreciation speech. "He wants it. Oz didn't do for him what it did for you you, so Osborn wants to dominate you, to own you. To make you *his* asset." His eyes narrow. "You have the power, Petey. What are you gonna do about it?"

 

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Clint is no stranger to playing possum. He's played possum on missions for SHIELD and when wrangling with those pesky Tracksuit Mafia guys. Today, he's lying in a heap at Norman Osborn's green clawed feet on top of the Brooklyn Bridge pretending to be unconscious and not being revolted by the semi-coherent things coming out of Osborn's mouth. Osborn is sick. No two ways about it. Between talking about beating Peter and using Peter for his sick sexual fantasies and then lamenting how much he loves Peter, the only thing that comes across is just how crazy in the head Osborn is. Not that Clint doesn't know it from the last time he saw Osborn on top of a bridge. The guy threw Peter's cute little girlfriend off the Queensboro Bridge without blinking an eye.

And now he wants to do the same to Clint.

Here's the thing. Clint's not some helpless little girl. He's a professional. SHIELD. Ex-SHIELD. Whatever. He's an Avenger. People make the mistake of thinking he's a weakling who has to rely on bows and arrows at their own peril. He's a highly trained operative who excels in hand to hand combat, who has a ka-bar tucked into his boot and a Walther PPK tucked into the small of his back.

So for now, Clint is playing possum and waiting for the precise moment that Osborn is going to learn the hard way why fucking with Clint Barton is a bad idea.

 

 

00000000000000000000000

Osborn is ranting.

Clint's awake.

Peter and Bucky are talking strategy.

Tony is arguing with police, FBI, CIA and people claiming to be from SHIELD.

Sam will be in the garage in under a minute.

Steve's fever is spiking and his heart rate sounds dangerously elevated.

Of the fifty HYDRA operatives, only seventeen are alive and many of those, just barely, including Dillon and Octavius. He can't come to any conclusion about Marko because the man has been reduced to so many grains of sand on the floor.

Matt is aware of all of this as he waits for Sam. Steve's condition is deteriorating and as much as Matt wants to go after Osborn, Steve has to come first. He has to trust in Clint's abilities and that Bucky is in control of himself. Nothing is stopping him from worrying about Peter. Nothing could. Crouching next to Steve, he tugs gently at his cowl until he gets it off and Steve makes a sound of relief. "Sam's on his way. He'll have you back at the Tower in a few minutes."

'Help Peter," Steve rasps. "Don't worry about me."

"Stop being a selfless idiot," Matt scolds him. "I can do both and right now, you need the help more than Peter does."

Steve coughs. "Is he..?"

"Bucky's right there with him. He won't let anything happen to Peter." The words soothe Steve but they don't do much to soothe Matt because he can hear every word of the sadomasochistic fantasies about Peter coming out of Osborn's mouth. The devil inside him wants to make Osborn choke on those words as it rams them back down his throat. Soon, Matt promises, as he slips Steve's shield over his shoulders.

"You look like hell, Rogers," Sam announces coming behind Matt. "And you don't look much better, Daredevil."

"I've looked worse," Matt tells him, hooking his hands under Steve's arms.

Sam snorts his disbelief. "Yeah, because you've seen your reflection, right?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just grabs Steve's feet. "Help me get him outside so I can fly him back to the Tower. I can't carry both of you --"

"Not a problem." The devil claws the air and paces, reminding Matt that his work isn't finished yet. "There's somewhere else I need to be."

"Oh no," Sam protests. "You are not going up there."

Matt doesn't answer. He's too busy listening to nearly a hundred cops and agents outside being warned by Tony to hold their fire because Captain America is being carried out. The warning doesn't stop so many guns from being cocked that even Matt can't count them all.

"Avengers coming out," Sam announces.

"Police! Freeze!"

"Stand down," Tony orders, trying to get in between them and the NYPD. "These men are both Avengers --"

"Daredevil, on your knees. Hands behind your head." The voice is distorted by the megaphone but it's coming from a slightly overweight detective who, if he doesn't calm down, is dangerously close to having a heart attack.

Matt ignores the chaos behind him as he waits for Sam to hook his arms tightly around Steve and spread his wings. The spectacle of Falcon and his giant artificial wingspan is all the diversion he needs to get away, even with the daylight leaving him exposed.

"He's getting away!"

"Fire!"

More than two dozen cops open fire as Matt launches himself upwards and onto the roof of the HYDRA facility to make his way to the bridge.

"No!" There's the sound of bullets ricocheting off of Tony's armor as he puts himself between Matt and the police. "Daredevil is with us! He's an Avenger! Dammit, stop!"

If the situation weren't so dire, Matt would find Tony being put in the position of defending a vigilante against the police amusing. He promises himself that he will laugh when he shares the irony with Foggy later. After Foggy finishes yelling at him for all the risks he's taken in the past twenty four hours, of course.

 

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"Put this on." Bucky pulls Peter's mask from one of the many pockets of his uniform and holds it out. In all the chaos, Peter had forgotten about it but apparently, master strategist Bucky didn't. "Give Osborn a show."

Peter hesitates. There's no easy way to get the answer other than just to come right out and ask, "Um...Won't it, uh...set you off?"

"Not anymore."

"Are you sure?"

The exasperated look Bucky shoots him says it all. "The mask won't but bugging me with stupid questions might. You wanna press your luck, punk?"

"Well, since you put it like that..." Peter tugs the mask on and starts scaling the bridge. There are a million things that can go wrong with Bucky's plan, starting with Osborn being completely nuts and ending with Osborn being completely nuts. Also, Bucky, as sane as he sounded when he explained his genius plan, is possibly one trigger word away from reverting to back to being the super scary Winter Soldier and killing Peter with his pinky.

Finding Osborn isn't hard. Between Peter's spider-sense and all the practice he's had with his super hearing, he finds him on top of the tower closer to Manhattan. Clint is lying on his side, bruised but still breathing.

"I was beginning to think you were too afraid to show," Osborn tells him.

Peter doesn't say a word, just cocks his head to the side. The silent treatment is Bucky's idea. Spider-man is known for having a big mouth, as he so delicately put it. Not saying a word will confuse Norman and throw him off his game, just like everything else he's told Peter to do.

Osborn growls, soft and low in his throat. "I've had enough of you and those ridiculous costumes. Take it off. Now!"

Don't engage.

"You will obey me, boy," Osborn snarls, reaching for Clint. "This one will pay for your --aaaggghhhh!"

Clint moves faster than Peter thought he could, pulling a knife from somewhere in his suit and driving it into Osborn's hand. Before Clint can do anything else, Peter snags him with a web and pulls him away from Osborn's swiping claws.

"Thanks, kid," Clint tells him, pulling a gun from behind his back and firing at Osborn, who launches himself into the air and throws a pair of fireballs in Clint's direction.

Peter grabs Clint around the waist and dives off the tower, using a web line to slow their descent as Clint keeps shooting at Osborn. He can talk now and boy does he ever. "Does everybody but me have a gun?"

"Yes." Clint tells him as they land on the roadway. "Kid, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Getting you out of harm's way."

The archer growls in frustration. "I'm not some damsel in distress."

"But you're --"

"An Avenger," Clint snaps. "Who's been hero-ing a lot longer than you, Mr. Wet Behind the Ears. Now take me back up there."

"No!" Peter glares back at him under his mask, fists on hips. "Nobody else is getting hurt today because of me."

Clint's teeth are clenched and his eyes are narrowed. "Kid, did it ever occur to you that *I* could hurt you?"

"Honestly? No." With that, Peter leaps upwards, grabs onto a cable and starts climbing. Clint's going to give him hell for this later on, he's sure, but at least he'll be alive to do it. As he climbs higher, he sees a familiar red costume and Steve's shield above him. "Oh, for crying out loud!"

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than he sees Clint climbing up below him.

"You guys are impossible!"

There's a loud explosion from up above that can only be Bucky using one of his many grenades. He looks up in time to see Osborn flying north towards Central Park and yet another grenade being hurled through the air. The explosion sends Osborn spiraling out of control and down into the East River.

A figure plummets from the top of the bridge and splashes into the water.

"Oh my god," Peter exclaims as he realizes that Bucky just dived off the top of the Brooklyn Bridge to go after Osborn. He's not sure whether he's more freaked out that Bucky's genius 'plan' was a total lie designed to get him out of the way so Bucky could go after Osborn or that Bucky is *going after* Osborn.

Osborn surfaces, snarling and launches himself skywards, with Bucky clinging to his leg. The two of them are fighting in mid-air.

It's simultaneously the most awesome and the most horrifying thing Peter's ever seen.

They disappear over the skyline, heading uptown.

"Damn super soldier serum shit," Peter hears Clint grumble as he shoots a web and takes off after them.

 

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Having mid-air fights with enhanced beings seems to be turning into a habit, Barnes tells himself. First, there was the fight with Captain America -- Steve -- on the helicarrier and now, there's Osborn. At least Steve wasn't trying to kill him. Osborn, on the other hand, is doing his damnedest.

And he's being a complete asshole.

Seriously. Barnes is not 'obsolete tech'.

Case in point: Osborn has the tactical advantage with his flying and his fireballs and he can't dislodge a one-armed, mentally unstable assassin.

Not that Osborn is any more mentally stable. He's going in and out of reality so fast that Barnes is getting whiplash listening to his brand of bullshit as they fly over Gramercy Park. In between the epithets and the crazy talk, a few trigger words get tossed out, at least that's what Barnes guesses they are, but Osborn's Russian accent is so bad that it's hard to tell. More importantly, none of the triggers work. Especially not the one that will shut him down and not the one that will send him after Peter Parker. That Parker kid has no idea what he's done when it comes to helping Barnes find himself again but he will when Barnes fixes it so that Osborn will never bother the kid again.

Fireballs go zipping past and Barnes doesn't even need to twist out of their way, Osborn has such lousy aim. It's a pity the same can't be said about the fancy buildings the fireballs hit. Still, a grenade would have done a lot more damage.

Osborn tries to shake him off once more before they crash through a large plate glass window and into a fancy penthouse.

Barnes thinks he's killed more than his share of targets who had penthouses just like this one. Or maybe his memory is just fucking with him. Again.

They stare at each other across the floor and of course Osborn has to open his mouth.

"Cheap copy," Osborn snarls.

Barnes shuts him up by throwing a knife into his gut. He knows it won't kill Osborn, but that wasn't the point. The point was that it *hurt*.

Osborn pulls the knife out and smirks with those fangs as his body starts to heal. "I'm going to enjoy beating you to death."

Assets don't feel emotion. Barnes does. Boredom. For all his power and extra abilities, Osborn does not know how to fight worth a damn. Sure, he can throw a punch but he telegraphs it so far in advance that Barnes catches Osborn's fist in his metal one and squeezes. He considers mentioning how much PSI his hand can exert but hey, if the tech is that obsolete, he figures Osborn already knows. And if he doesn't, the sound of his bones being crushed should be a pretty damned big clue.

Osborn howls in pain and does the next predictable thing. He tries to use a fireball to get free.

Barnes punches him in the throat and the fireball dies out before it can go anywhere. He watches dispassionately as Osborn struggles to breathe. The healing factor is impressive but Barnes plans on overwhelming it with damage. After all, there's only so much a body can take, even with a healing factor. Barnes knows this from personal experience.

Assets don't speak. Barnes lets his metal arm do the talking as he brandishes it under Osborn's nose. If *his* arm can punch through concrete, what could a more modern piece of tech do? Osborn's not in any condition to tell him, especially when Barnes circles around and punches the man's spine, over and over again.

Barnes knows exactly which vertebrae to crush. He knows a lot of ways to inflict pain, thanks to HYDRA's years of training, and he's going to --

"You're killing him!" Parker grabs his wrist as he brings it back for another devastatingly surgical blow. "Stop!"

He freezes. There's no reason in the world why he should obey this kid. Not a one. And yet, here he is, unable to move because scrawny little Peter Parker ordered him to stop.

No. That's not true.

Peter reminds him so much of Steve at that age. He would have done --- he will do -- anything for Steve. He already has, including dying once and breaking his programming to save Steve. Peter's been tearing his programming to pieces just by being himself.

Except for the part of his programming where Barnes obeys him unconditionally.

The kid is a blur as he pulls Barnes out of the way of a fireball.

Barnes throws a knife, watching expressionlessly as it lodges itself in Osborn's heart. Osborn's eyes grow wide and then he collapses.

"Oh my god." The kid sounds like he might throw up. "Y-you k-killed --"

"Not with that healing factor. Might take him a couple'a years to heal all the damage though." Bucky nudges Osborn with a boot. "I can, if you want. Doesn't have to be on your conscience."

Parker tugs off his mask. Facially, he and Steve are nothing alike but they both have that earnest expression when they talk about beliefs they hold strongly. They get the same light in their eyes when they think they can save him. "What about yours?"

Barnes shrugs. "'S what I do."

"It's what you *did*. Y-you're not the Winter Soldier anymore, are you?"

That's a damned good question.

He's not the Asset.

He's not Bucky.

"Time for me to go," Barnes says, finally. "Mission completed."

The kid blocks his way. "Go where?"

Another good question.

"You need to come back to the Tower with me," Parker tells him firmly and when he sees Barnes physically recoil, he adds, "Not because we want to hold you or anything. But because Steve...h-he's sick from the Oz that guy shot him with. Please, Bucky? He's been looking for you. It'd mean everything to him a-and if...if --"

"He's not gonna die. Punk's too stubborn. Just like you."

It doesn't surprise him in the least when the kid hugs him.

Assets don't cry and if Barnes' eyes are a little wet, that's just because of the smoldering furniture in Osborn's penthouse.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Were you ever planning to tell me you're Spider-man?" - Aunt May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The final chapter. Thank you, dear readers for sticking around, for leaving kudos and comments and for enjoying every word (even the few random typos). The fourth installment is on its way.

Chapter 15

 

Mary Jane is waiting when Peter and Bucky arrive at the Tower. Her eyes go wide when she sees Bucky and then narrow in fury as she advances on him. "You --!"

Bucky takes a step back and raises both hands in surrender.

"Bucky, this is Mary Jane," Peter says, stepping between them. "MJ, this is Bucky Barnes --"

"I know who he is! The question is, why is he with you?"

"He's been helping me."

"He *kidnapped* you."

"He didn't."

"He did." She glares at them both, fists on hips. "I saw it, Peter! He threw you over his shoulder like a sack of...of...something."

"Potatoes," Bucky offers.

"Exactly."

Bucky is grinning now. "Tossed him in a car and took off."

"What I'm saying," Mary Jane agrees with a firm nod.

"Fine," Peter sighs. "He kidnapped me. He also saved my life, like, three times over. Can you at least try to be nice to him?"

Mary Jane blinks and stares up at Bucky. "You saved his life?"

Bucky shrugs.

"He did," Peter insists. "With grenades, even."

She throws up her hands. "Grenades. Of course grenades. Because that's what civilized people do. They kidnap you to save your life and they do it with grenades."

The grin Bucky is flashing at Mary Jane is one the history books never show. In those pictures, Bucky Barnes is wearing his snazzy Army uniform and a serious expression, the perfect World War II hero. The history books never mentioned the lady-killing smile being directed at Peter's girlfriend. "I like her, Petey."

"You're a goofball," Mary Jane decides and rolls her eyes at him. Peter heaves a sigh of relief. That eye roll and calling him a goofball means that Bucky has met her high standards of acceptability. He hopes she doesn't have a crush on him, like she does on Steve.

Peter clears his throat. "Not that I'm not glad to see you here but I was wondering, did Clint bring you here with Aunt May?"

"Yes."

"Yes?" He sucks in air and feels a panic attack coming on. "Here? As in 'here' here? Like not 'in the building' here?"

"Here here," Mary Jane confirms. "As in your room. With your spare costume."

"Oh God," Peter moans. "Why would Clint do that? I hadn't even humiliated him yet."

"You humiliated Clint?"

Peter nods miserably. "It was bad. I pretty much called him a weakling."

"You didn't."

"Figuratively."

"Ouch. You are so going to have to kiss his butt," Mary Jane tells him.

"I also sassed Steve."

"He had it coming," Bucky interjects.

"I am *so* fired," Peter sighs.

Mary Jane pats his arm. "Worry about that later, tiger. Right now, you need to get down to Medical. They're waiting for you down there."

Peter swallows hard. Of course they are. He's the only one who's been exposed to Oz that isn't some kind of insane freak. "Bucky? Do you want to...?"

The smile on Bucky's face fades and he goes rigid.

"He can stay with me," Mary Jane says quickly reading the situation and taking Bucky's hand in hers. "Maybe he can show me how to throw a grenade or something while we wait for you."

Peter fixes Bucky with a stern look. "Don't you dare."

Bucky winks at him.

 

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Clint is waiting when Peter steps off the elevator, his arms folded across his chest with a look of pure fury on his face. "You."

Uh-oh. "Uh...I'm sorry?"

"No," Clint tells him. "You only think you're sorry. You're *going* to be sorry when *I* start training you. You'll see who's the scary one on the team then, kiddo."

"Steve is going to kick me off the team," Peter sighs wearily as he walks into the medical wing.

"Of course he won't," Bruce says, grasping Peter's arm and tugging him away from Clint. "Especially not when you're going to help save his life."

"I'm what? How?"

Bruce steers him towards a bed next to Steve. "Technically, Peter, you're not old enough to do this but Steve needs your plasma and your aunt gave her permission."

"Sh-she what?" And then he realizes what Bruce asked him to donate. "Antibiotics won't work on Steve, but my plasma will?"

"To boost his immune system enough to counteract the infections and the Oz, yes. I'll be happy to go over the science with you at a later date," Bruce tells him. "I've run the simulations before, looking at what would happen if Steve needed a donor and if you needed a donor. While Erskine's formula is lost and Oz is known to be unstable, both you and Steve can both benefit from each others' plasma."

"When exactly did you run these simulations?" Peter asks suspiciously.

Bruce shifts uncomfortably. "This isn't the time --"

"Fury gave you a sample of my blood, didn't he?"

"Yes." The scientist raises an eyebrow and regards him calmly. "Being angry about it won't change the fact that it was done and it doesn't change the fact that you're the key to Steve's recovery. If you don't help him, there's a good chance that the multiple infections he's suffering from are going to kill him."

"Multiple?"

"Multiple. It's as if every disease he ever had before the serum is attacking his immune system at once."

"Jeez." Peter starts tugging off his uniform.

Bruce hands him a gown. "I do have some good news. There's juice and cookies for you after you're done."

"Seriously? That's good news?" Peter settles onto the bed and looks over at Steve. He's pale, sweating and shivering beneath a pile of blankets.

"They're chocolate chip."

"No. No chocolate chip cookies for this little snot," Clint snaps, glaring at Peter. "Do you know what he said to me? He said it never occurred to him that I could hurt him."

"I said I was sorry."

"Oh, you'll be sorry all right --"

"Actually," Bruce interrupts, "Between Peter's predictive sense, agility and strength --"

"You're taking his side?" Clint stares at him incredulously.

Bruce flashes a grin at Peter. "Well, if I were Peter, it wouldn't have occurred to me either."

 

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Peter isn't sure when he fell asleep but he opens his eyes to see Steve, looking perkier, sitting up in bed and talking to Bucky, Mary Jane and....Aunt May is sitting in a chair next to his bed. He pulls the blanket over his face and groans.

Aunt May tugs the blanket away. "You've been asleep for a little over six hours. From what Doctor Banner told me, you needed the sleep."

"What Doctor Banner t-told you?" Peter echoes, looking over at Steve and Bucky. They look back at him. Mary Jane just shrugs.

"So," Aunt May says, settling down next to him, "I'd say we need to talk, wouldn't you?"

"Um..." He buries his face in his hand. "Yes? B-but this...this wasn't..."

"Were you ever planning to tell me you're Spider-man?"

"Um..." Peter peeks at her from between his fingers. "I...I wasn't sure *how* to tell you. I mean, I didn't want you to worry or anything and --"

"And you think I haven't been worried without knowing?" Aunt May asks. "You sneak into the house at all hours of the morning, you miss school. Crazy people come to your school with guns and bombs looking for Spider-man. My therapist said --"

"Oh my god," Peter groans. "You spoke to a therapist about me?"

"That's right and about me," she tells him firmly. "It hasn't been easy for either of us since Ben...since he's been gone."

"I miss him so much, Aunt May." He scrubs at his eyes. "A-and I could have...I could have saved him. It's all my fault."

"That's not true."

"It is. Oh God, I wish it weren't. Th-the guy who k-killed him. I saw the same guy that night, robbing...a-and I didn't stop him. He was right there and I let him go. The next thing he does is kill Uncle Ben. He shot him. And-and I didn't stop him. I could have." Peter can't even bring himself to look at her.

She takes his face in her hand, raising his chin until he's looking at her. "All this time, you've been blaming yourself?"

He nods miserably.

"Oh, my little man. Don't you see? He pulled that trigger, not you. It couldn't have been your fault. Just like it wasn't my fault for insisting we buy the house in the first place and it wasn't Ben's fault for making that joke about the burglar having more money than we did or not putting a stronger lock on the back door or a million other things that had nothing to do with that man's decision to shoot Ben." Aunt May wipes at her own eyes. "Anything else isn't what happened and it's not true. And that, Peter, is what six months of therapy teaches you."

"B-but..."

"You caught him, didn't you?"

Peter nods. "Thats when I became Spider-man. I-I think Uncle Ben would have loved it."

"He would have," Aunt May agrees. "But Peter, the violence. Those people you beat up..."

"There are a lot of bad people in the world." He scrubs at his eyes and tries not to feel humiliated about telling his life story and crying about it in front of Captain America. "With great power --"

"Comes great responsibility. Ben used to say that."

"He was right."

She takes a deep breath. "Where did these powers come from?"

"Remember the field trip?"

"The one where you got bitten by a spider?"

"A genetically altered spider," Peter corrects her. "Norman Osborn was trying to create a super soldier serum and --"

"Super soldier?" Aunt May's eyes grow wide and she looks over at Steve who actually blushes and ducks his head. "Like Captain Rogers?"

"It was supposed to be but the spider blood and the venom...Let's just say nobody saw me coming." He rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, Osborn used it on himself and he turned into a green goblin-y freak. And he used it on Harry and..."

"And you fought them. That must have been awful."

"Not as awful as Norman Osborn becoming obsessed with me."

"Peter!" Aunt May is frowning at him. "That's something you should have told me."

"Ma'am?" Bucky looks every kind of awkward as he comes up beside Aunt May. He tucks his hands behind his back and stands at parade rest. "Sorry to interrupt, ma'am, but you should know Osborn won't be bothering Peter again."

Aunt May blinks up at him.

"I took care of it and if Osborn should regenerate enough to be a problem, I'll take care of it personally." The metal plates in his arm click and whir gently as he shifts uncomfortably under her stare. "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm James Barnes, ma'am."

She's staring at Bucky, eyes wide. "Aren't you the man I saw on the news? The one who caused all that ruckus in Washington, DC?"

"He saved my life," Peter interrupts, leaping to Bucky's defense. "That attack at school yesterday? He saved me from those mercenaries and he's been taking care of me since then." Bucky ducks his head. "What HYDRA did to him... Aunt May, Bucky Barnes is one of the bravest people I've ever met."

Aunt May doesn't hesitate. She gets to her feet, throws her arms around Bucky, hugs him and kisses his cheek.

The man formerly known as the Winter Soldier blushes bright red.

Peter clears his throat. "Bucky kind of needs a place to stay, Aunt May, and I was wondering..."

"No, Petey," Bucky practically growls.

Aunt May reaches around him, gently pulling his hands around and holding them in hers. "Of course you can stay with us, Mr. Barnes. I only know how to cook for three anyway."

"But --" He looks helpessly at Peter who shrugs at him. It's comical because the guy probably has taken on entire armies single-handedly and he's completely defeated by Aunt May.

"Oh, don't worry," Aunt May assures him, with a pat to Bucky's metal arm. "I'm sure there are a few chores around the house you can help out with."

Peter glances over at Steve. The American icon is watching the entire exchange with his mouth hanging open. Mary Jane jerks her head at Steve and smirks at the hero's reaction.

Peter clears his throat. "Just so you know, Aunt May, um, it kind of makes you an accomplice, having both of us under your roof."

Aunt May shrugs. "I suppose the more vigilantes the better, then."

"I'm glad you feel that way." Matt comes up on the other side of Peter's bed and ruffles his hair as he sets Steve's shield down. Peter winces at all of the bruises that are visible on his face and neck and at the thought of what's hidden under his clothes. "I'm Daredevil, Mrs. Parker."

Aunt May's eyes go wide and then a delighted smile lights up her face. "So Peter really has been spending time with you. And that church business? Have you really taken him to church, Mr. Murdock?"

"Yes. He's been to Confession with me twice and we go to Mass in the mornings." Matt squares his shoulders. "I've also been teaching him to fight, both boxing and mixed martial arts."

"And you're really a lawyer?"

"Admitted to practice in New York and New Jersey."

"You practice law and you fight crime?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Peter waits for her to mention the blind thing but she doesn't.

"You, Mr. Murdock --"

"Matt," he interrupts smoothly.

"-- are an amazing young man," Aunt May finishes. "I'm very pleased that Peter has you in his life. I think you're a very good influence."

Bucky is directing a smirk in Steve's direction.

"Um, Aunt May? Steve..uh, Captain America has been training me, too. So have the rest of the Avengers." He can't even look Steve in the eyes as he says it. "Uh, well, he was, but I kind of screwed up and --"

"That's why we're training you, Peter," Steve cuts him off as he suddenly regains control of his faculties.

"But you kill people!" Peter protests. "Yeah, I get that I'm reckless and careless and every other kind of 'less' but I'm not crossing that line. So if that means you're going to kick me out --"

"He can kick me out, too," Matt chimes in. "I've come close but I haven't killed anybody either. I won't."

Aunt May's eyebrows shoot up and then she fixes Steve with a stern look. "Young man, I don't care if you are Captain America. You're not teaching Peter to kill. I'll happily let him spend time with you so that he can learn to take care of himself out there but he's a good boy and he's not going to kill someone just because a walking military recruitment poster told him it was okay."

Steve looks chastened, like Aunt May just slapped him instead of scolded him. "Yes, ma'am."

Peter grins at Matt. "Did I mention my aunt was a hippie?"

"No, and you didn't mention she could take on Captain America and win, either," Matt laughs. "I love your aunt."

"Good," Aunt May tells him. "Because you're coming to dinner tomorrow night."

"Actually," Steve says slowly, looking at Aunt May with real affection. "Maybe you'd like to have dinner here, Mrs. Parker. You can meet the rest of the Avengers. Matt, you should invite Foggy. Mary Jane, you should come, too. You too, Buck."

"Is that an order, Stevie?"

"Yes," Peter and Steve answer together.

 

00000000000000000000000000000

 

"She told off Captain America?" Foggy asks. He's not sure whether he's horrified or is going to laugh his ass off. "Peter's aunt? That nice old lady?"

"I've never wished I could see a facial expression that badly," Matt tells him, taking the cup of coffee that Foggy hands him.

"Yeah, me too." He shakes his head. "You had one heck of a day, Matty. Sorry about your apartment."

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Foggy."

Foggy rolls his eyes. He knows Matt can't 'see' it or 'hear' it but that doesn't matter. Matt knows anyway. "You don't have to thank me."

"Of course I do," Matt contradicts him. "Pepper says the repairs will be done by Monday."

"And who insisted on negotiating that property damage clause for you when you said it wasn't necessary?" Foggy asks, drawing himself up.

"You did," Matt recites obediently, if a little sarcastically.

"That's right. Me. The one who doesn't put on a mask and have cops shoot at him while *Iron Man* runs defense." Foggy runs a hand through his hair as it hits him. "Matt, you had Iron Man running defense for you. You teamed up with Hawkeye and took on HYDRA and those scary super powered guys with the freaking Winter Soldier and Spider-man."

Matt settles down onto Foggy's sofa with a groan. "It wasn't as much fun as it sounds. I nearly died in a human sandstorm and that Electro character tried to --"

"Electrocute you. I get it."

"Do you?"

"Completely," Foggy assures him as he sinks into the chair across from Matt. "If you weren't wondering what the hell you were doing fighting guys made out of sand or who turn themselves into goblin things and secret shadow governments, I'd question your sanity. I mean, Matt, that's a far cry from taking on the Russian and Chinese mobs."

"I did it though," Matt says quietly. "I took them on."

"That you did."

"Without killing anybody."

"Amen to that." Foggy thinks for a moment. "We could amend your contract if you want. Put in a no-kill clause --"

"I don't think that will be necessary, Foggy." Matt toys with the mug of coffee in his hand. "I made myself perfectly clear."

Foggy makes a frustrated noise. "A first year law student knows better, Matthew! If it's not in the contract, it's not part of the agreement."

"If they try to make me cross that line, Foggy, the agreement won't matter. I'll walk."

"Just sic Peter's aunt on them."

Matt finally tastes the coffee and his lips curve into a pleased smile. "What's this?"

"A little something Ms. Potts sent over for you when she called to tell me about your apartment." Now *that* was a conversation. Pepper Potts isn't a lawyer but she could be one or anything else she wanted to be. The woman is scary-efficient. Foggy likes her already. He also likes that she's also kind. "She sent over a bunch of stuff for you. Clothes, a new laptop, a new Braille display and a bunch of other crap and a basket of food that she said she hoped would 'please your senses.' I'm guessing that coffee is something that didn't come out of a monkey's or a bird's ass."

The face Matt makes is perfect. He refuses to drink coffee when he's at the Tower because Tony gave him a cup of that monkey poop coffee. "No. These are roasted beans and you used a new coffee maker."

"Your new coffee maker. All the buttons are in Braille."

"I might actually start liking Tony Stark."

"If he keeps deflecting bullets for you and giving you expensive presents, I'd say if you don't like him, fake it," Foggy advises.

"We've been invited to a Sunday team dinner at the Tower tomorrow," Matt tells him finally. "Steve specifically asked for you and he asked that we come an hour early."

Foggy thinks about it. "That could mean he wants to put a no-kill clause in your contract or the early arrival might mean he wants to terminate the agreement altogether and avoid making a scene. You think he might want to fire you for being you?"

"I think," Matt says slowly, "he wants to ask us to handle Bucky Barnes' legal problems."

"Matthew, if that's why he wants to see us..." Foggy leans back in his chair as he thinks about everything he knows about the Winter Soldier and decides it's not nearly enough. "You know what? I think we need to prep for that meeting."

"I think you're right."

"I'm right?"

Matt sets the cup down on the coffee table. "I've been thinking of nothing else but the types of defenses we could put on for Bucky Barnes since I met him. He's going to have everybody coming after him, Foggy."

"Well, who better than Daredevil to defend him?"

"Who better than Nelson and Murdock," Matt corrects him. "Let's start prepping."

"Shouldn't you get some rest?"

"Do you remember studying for the bar?"

Oh does he remember. Long, marathon study sessions as they prepared for the three days of New York and New Jersey exams. Foggy sighs and throws up his hands, not that he's really that bothered. If Bucky Barnes is really the reason Steve wants to meet with them, this is the first of many marathon research sessions to come. "Fine. I'll get your fancy Stark computer."

 

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"I'm sorry," Peter blurts the second he walks into the conference room.

Steve rubs the back of his neck and tries to remember being an awkward fifteen year old. Then he thinks about being an awkward fifteen year old with super strength and other abilities who put on a mask because he thought he was the reason his uncle was killed. And then Steve thinks about the boy's aunt, who's sitting in the common area with Bucky, waiting for Foggy and Matt to arrive.

"Oh god, I'm fired, aren't I?" Peter slouches and hangs his head. "I know I screwed up and I sassed you aaaaand I kind of told Clint I didn't think he was dangerous --"

"You did what?"

Peter shrugs but doesn't look up. "Clint asked if it ever occurred to me that he could hurt me and I said no."

Steve's mouth twitches. No. He can't laugh. It's not funny. Oh, it is. He takes a deep breath and gets his stern face back on. "Look at me, Peter."

The boy looks up and he looks somewhere between terrified and nauseous. Steve distinctly remembers wearing that same expression during his first week of boot camp.

"You made some mistakes," he says firmly. "The first was disobeying a direct order in the field. Twice. Even though you took control of the situation and worked it out, you have to trust in my leadership and obey me immediately and without question when I give you an order. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Peter answers dejectedly.

"In the Army, when a recruit makes a mistake, there are punishments like running laps or being assigned details like washing windows or scrubbing latrines," Steve goes on. "You're going to clean the vent shafts between Clint's residence floor and the common area *and* you're going to train with him twice a week for a month."

Peter nods and mumbles, "Yes, sir."

He narrows his eyes slightly. "Clint specifically asked to give you weapons training because he says you need to get over your fear of guns."

The look Peter shoots him is one of pure fury.

Steve eyes him and waits but Peter holds his tongue. He's probably the only team member who would, at this point. Even Sam calls him out. "Weapons training is tabled until I decide you're ready."

Peter exhales a shaky breath of relief.

"I've been asked by your aunt to give her progress reports."

The boy buries his face in his hand. "She didn't."

"She did."

"I've got to be the only superhero on the planet who has to bring home a report card," Peter sighs. "What else?"

Steve relaxes his posture. "I'm proud of you."

"What?" Peter blinks at him, confused.

He reaches out and rests a hand on Peter's narrow shoulder, squeezing gently. "You've been a good friend to Bucky and you risked your personal safety to help him. Clumsily. Recklessly. But your intentions were good and he's doing better because of you." Steve takes a step closer. "I'd like to ask you for a favor."

"Um, sure?"

"I know that he's uncomfortable being around me and coming here to the Tower --"

"Here." Peter reaches into a pocket and hands Steve a key. "My aunt said to give you that and ask that you please try to be discreet when you come to visit. Also, if you let her know in advance, she'll have lots of food waiting for you." He takes a deep breath. "Look, I know you think having him stay with me is some kind of naive kid move. It's not. He wasn't going to come to you and I wasn't going to let him live on the streets. If he's with me and he loses control, I can web him and hold him until you come."

Steve is speechless. He *had* assumed Peter was being naive.

"I don't think he will. Lose control and become the Winter Soldier, I mean. I know about the other stuff." Peter squares his shoulders and looks Steve in the eyes. "Sam came by this morning to talk to us about PTSD and what to do if Bucky has an episode. I think Aunt May was ready to adopt Sam and Bucky both by the end of that conversation."

"I like your aunt. She reminds me of my mother," Steve admits.

"Don't tell her that or you'll be sharing a bedroom with Bucky and helping him clean out the garage."

"She has him...?"

"She wants him to feel 'normal'." Peter makes air quotes. "So she gave him a list of chores to do."

Any concerns he had about Bucky living with the Parkers are gone. So are the concerns he had about Peter.

"I'm proud of you," he says again, and pulls Peter to him for a hug. "You'll make a fine superhero someday."

The boy is already a fine young man.

 

The end...for now.


End file.
